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Autobiography of a Horse 







OTHER TITLES 

IN 

THE MAYFLOWER SERIES 


PINOCCHIO—Collodi 
BLACK BEAUTY—Anna Sewell 
TREASURE ISLAND—Robert Louis Stevenson 
EAST O’ THE SUN AND WEST O’ THE MOON 
THE SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON—Wyss 
ROBINSON CRUSOE—Defoe 

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longing to the Mayflower Series. 

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other’s brief but equally telling comment. 

Each volume is embellished with extraordinarily 
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ticular story in detail, a feature in which the child 
will take unusual delight. 

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throughout in two colors, each page bearing a 
border design, illustrated, size l 1 /^ by SVg inches. 

Postpaid Price, $1.50 each 

Additional titles in making 

THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY 
Akron, Ohio 








He always came with kind words and caresses, and I grew very 
fond of him. He called me Old Crony; as I used 
to come to him in the field and 
follow him about. 



























as- aMI 





























CONTENTS 


PART I 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. My Early Home. 9 

II. The Hunt.12 

III. My Breaking In.16 

IV. Bertwick Park. 21 

V. A Fair Start.24 

VL Liberty.29 

VII. Ginger.31 

VIII. Ginger’s Story Continued.37 

IX. Merrylegs.41 

X. A Talk in the Orchard.46 

XI. Plain Speaking .63 

XII. A Stormy Day.57 

XIII. The Devil’s Trade Mark.61 

XIV. James Howard.65 

XV. The Old Hostler.69 

XVI. The Fire ..72 

XVH. John Manly’s Talk . ..78 

XVHL Going for the Doctor.83 

XIX. Only Ignorance.87 

XX. Joe Green.90 

XXI. The Parting.94 

PART II 

XXII. Earlshall.. . 97 

XXIII. A Strike for Liberty.102 































CONTENTS 




CHAPTER PAGB 

XXIV. The Lady Anne, or a Runaway Horse . 106 

XXV. Reuben Smith.115 

XXVI. How it Ended. 119 

XXVII. Ruined, and Going Downhill .... 123 
XXVIII. A Job Horse and His Drivers . . . 126 

XXIX. Cockneys. 131 

XXX. A Thief. 139 

XXXI. A Humbug. 142 

PART III 

XXXII. A Horse Fair .146 

XXXIII. A London Cab Horse. 150 

XXXIV. An Old War Horse.156 

XXXV. Jerry Barker.162 

XXXVI. The Sunday Cab.169 

XXXVII. The Golden Rule. 175 

XXXVIII. Dolly and a Real Gentleman . . . 179 

XXXIX. Seedy Sam.184 

XL. Poor Ginger.188 

XLI. The Butcher. 191 

XLII. The Election. 194 

XLIII. A Friend in Need. 197 

XLIV. Old Captain and His Successor . . . 202 

XLV. Jerry’s New Year.207 


PART IV 



XLVI. Jakes and the Lady. 215 

XLVII. Hard Times. 219 

XLVIII. Farmer Thoroughgood and His Grand¬ 
son Willie.224 

XLIX. My Last Home. 230 
























On came the dogs, followed by the huntsmen 

. 8 

I just rose up on my hind legs and let him slip 
off behind. 43 

Patting and coaxing me, he led me out of the 
stable... 75 

Lady Anne chose me for her horse and named 
me “Black Auster”... 107 

I never knew such a happy, merry family as 
Jerry*s.151 

There was not a day he did not pay me a visit; 
sometimes picking me out from among the 
other horses and giving me a bit of carrot.. 227 











BLACK BEAUTY 







































































CHAPTER I. 

MY EARLY HOME. 

The first place that I can well remember was 
a pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water 
in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and 
rushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end. 
Over the hedge on one side we looked into a 
plowed field, and on the other we looked over 
a gate at our master's house, which stood by 
the roadside; at the top of the meadow was a 
grove of fir-trees, and at the bottom a running 
brook, overhung by a steep bank. 

While I was young I lived upon my mother's 
milk, as I could not eat grass. In the daytime 
I ran by her side, and at night I lay down close 
by her. When it was hot we used to stand by 
the pond in the shade of the trees, and when it 
was cold we had a warm shed near the grove. 

As soon as I was old enough to eat grass, my 
mother worked in the daytime, and came back 
in the evening. 

9 






10 


BLACK BEAUTY 



There were six young colts in the meadow 
besides me; they were older than I was; some were 
nearly as large as grown-up horses. I used to 
run with them, and had great fun; we used to 
gallop all together round the field, as hard as we 
could go. Sometimes the play was rough, for 
they would frequently bite and kick, as well as 
gallop. 

One day, when there was a good deal of kick¬ 
ing, my mother whinnied to me to come to her, 
and then she said: “I wish you to pay attention 
to what I am going to say to you. The colts 
who live here are cart-horse colts, and, of course, 
they have not learned manners. You have been 
well-bred and well-born; your father has a great 
name in these parts, and your grandfather won the 
cup two years at the Newmarket races; your 
grandmother had the sweetest temper of any 
horse I ever knew, and I think you have never 
seen me kick or bite. I hope you will grow up 
gentle and good, and never learn bad ways; do 
your work with a good will, lift your feet up 
well when you trot, and never bite or kick even 
in play." 

I have never forgotten my mother’s advice; 
I knew she was a wise old horse, and our master 
thought a great deal of her. Her name was 
Duchess, but he called her Pet. 

Our master was a good, kind man. He gave 
us good food, good lodging and kind words. 
We were all fond of him, and my mother loved 
him very much. When she saw him at the gate 
she would neigh with joy, and trot up to him. 








BLACK BEAUTY 


11 











He would pat and stroke her and say, “Well, 
old Pet, and how is your little Darkie?” I was 
a dull black, so he called me Darkie; then he would 
give me a piece of bread, and sometimes he 
brought a carrot for my mother. All the horses 
would come to him, but I think we were his 
favorites. My mother always took him to town 
on a market-day in a light gig. 

We had a plow-boy, Dick, who sometimes 
came into our field to pluck blackberries from 
the hedge. When he had eaten all he wanted 
he would have what he called fun with the colts, 
throwing stones and sticks at them to make them 
gallop. We did not much mind him, for we could 
gallop off; but sometimes a stone would hit and 
hurt us. One day he was at this game, and 
did not know that the master was in the next field, 
but he was there, watching what was going on; 
over the hedge he jumped in a snap, and catch¬ 
ing Dick by the arm, he gave him such a box on 
the ear as made him roar with the pain and 
surprise. As soon as we saw the master we 
trotted up nearer to see what went on. 

“Bad boy!” he said, “bad boy! to chase the 
colts. This is not the first time, nor the second, 
but it shall be the last. There—take your 
money and go home; I shall not want you on my 
farm again.” So we never saw Dick any more. 
Old Daniel, the man who looked after the horses, 
was just as gentle as our master; so we were 
well off. 








CHAPTER II.' 

THE HUNT. 

Before I was two years old a circumstance 
happened which I have never forgotten. It was 
early in the spring; there had been a little frost 
in the night, and a light mist still hung over the 
woods and meadows. We colts were feeding 
at the lower part of the field when we heard, 
quite in the distance, what sounded like the 
cry of dogs. The oldest of the colts raised his 
head, pricked his ears and said, “There are the 
hounds!” and immediately cantered off, followed 
by the rest of us, to the upper part of the field, 
where we could look over the hedge and see several 
fields beyond. My mother and an old riding horse 
of our master’s were also standing near, and 
seemed to know all about it. “They have found 
a hare,” said my mother, “and if they come 
this way we shall see the hunt.” 

Soon the dogs were all tearing down the field 
of young wheat next to ours. I never heard such 
a noise as they made. They did not bark, nor 
howl, nor whine, but kept on a “yo! yo, o, o! yo! 
yo, o, o!” at the top of their voices. After them 
12 














BLACK 


came a number of men on horsebacK, 
loping as fast as they could. The old horses 
snorted and looked eagerly after them, and we 
young colts wanted to be galloping with them, 
but they were soon away into the fields lower 
down; here it seemed as if they had come to 
a stand; the dogs left off barking and ran about 
every way with their noses to the ground. “They 
have lost the scent,” said the old horse; “per¬ 
haps the hare will get off.” 

“What hare?” I said. “Oh, I don’t know 
what hare; likely enough it may be one of our 
own hares out of the woods; any hare they can 
find will do for the dogs and men to run after;” 
and before long the dogs began their “yo! yo, o, o!” 
again, and back they came all together at full 
speed, making straight for our meadow at the 
part where the high bank and hedge overhang 
the brook. 

“Now we shall see the hare,” said my mother; 
and just then a hare, wild with fright, rushed 
by and made for the woods. On came the 
they burst over the bank, leaped the 
came dashing across the field, followed by the 
huntsmen. Six or eight men leaped their horses 
clean over, close upon the dogs. The hare tried 
to get through the fence; it was too thick, and 
she turned sharp around to make for the road 
but it was too late; the dogs were upon her 
their wild cries; we heard one shriek, and that 
was the end of her. One of the huntsmen rode up 
and whipped off the dogs, who would soon have 
tom her to pieces. He held her up by the leg. 


2—June 24 


14 BLACK BEAUTY 

torn and bleeding, and all the gentlemen seemed 
well pleased. 

As for me, I was so astonished that I did not 
at first see what was going on by the brook; but 
when I did look, there was a sad sight; two fine 
horses were down; one was struggling in the stream, 
and the other was groaning on the grass. One 
of the riders was getting out of the water covered 
with mud, the other lay quite still. 

“His neck is broken,” said my mother. 

“And it serves him right, too,” said one of the 
colts. 

I thought the same, but my mother did not 
join with us. 

“Well, no,” she said, “you must not say that; 
but though I am an old horse, and have seen 
and heard a great deal, I never yet could make 
out why men are so fond of this sport; they often 
hurt themselves, often spoil good horses, and 
tear up the fields, and all for a hare, or a fox, 
or a stag, that they could get more easily some 
other way, but we are only horses, and don’t 
know.” 

While my mother was saying this, we stood 
and looked on. Many of the riders had gone 
to the young man; but my master, who had 
been watching what was going on, was the first 
to raise him. His head fell back and his arms 
hung down, and everyone looked very serious. 
There was no noise now; even the dogs were quiet, 
and seemed to know that something was wrong. 
They carried him to our master’s house. I heard 
afterwards that it was young George Gordon, 






BLACK BEAUTY 15 



the Squire’s only son, a fine, tall young man, and 
the pride of his family. 

They were now riding in all directions—to the 
doctor’s, to the farrier’s, and to Squire Gordon's, 
to let him know about his son. When the farrier 
looked at the black horse that lay groaning on 
the grass, he felt him all over, and shook his 
head; one of his legs was broken. Then some 
one ran to our master’s house and came back 
with a gun; presently there was a loud bang and 
a dreadful shriek, and then all was still; the 
black horse moved no more. 

My mother seemed much troubled; she said 
she had known that horse for years, and that his 
name was “Rob Roy”; he was a good horse, and 
there was no vice in Mm. She never would go to 
that part of the field afterwards. 

Not many days after, we heard the church- 
bell tolling for a long time, and looking over 
the gate, we saw a long strange coach covered 
with black cloth and drawn by black horses; after 
that came another and another and another, 
and all were black, while the bell kept tolling, 
tolling. They were carrying young Gordon to 
the church-yard to bury him. He would never 
ride again. What they did with Rob Roy I never 
knew; but ’twas all for one little hare. 








16 BLACK BEAUTY 

CHAPTER III. 

MY BREAKING IN. 

I was now beginning to grow handsome, my 
coat had grown fine and soft, and was bright 
black. I had one white foot and a pretty white 
star on my forehead. I was thought very hand¬ 
some; my master would not sell me till I was 
four years old; he said lads ought not to work 
like men, and colts ought not to work like horses 
till they were quite grown up. 

When I was four years old, Squire Gordon 
came to look at me. He examined my eyes, 
my mouth, and my legs; he felt them all down, 
and then I had to walk and trot and gallop be¬ 
fore him; he seemed to like me, and said, “When 
he has been well broken in he will do very well.” 
My master said he would break me in himself, 
and he lost no time about it, for the next day 
he began. 

Everyone may not know what breaking in 
is, therefore I will describe it. It means to teach 
a horse to wear a saddle and bridle, and to carry 
on his back a man, woman, or child; to go just 
the way they wish, and to go quietly. Besides 
this, he has to learn to wear a collar, a crupper, 
and a breeching, and to stand still while they are 
put on; then to have a cart or a chaise fixed be¬ 
hind, so that he cannot walk or trot without 
dragging it after him; and he must go fast or 
slow, just as his driver wishes. He must never 
start at what he sees, nor speak to other horses, 
nor bite, nor kick, nor have any will of his own, 



BLACK BEAUTY 


17 


but always do his master’s will, even though he 
may be veiy tired or hungry; but the worst of all 
is, when his harness is once on, he may neither 
jump for joy nor lie down for weariness. So 
you see this breaking in is a great thing. 

I had long been used to a halter and a head- 
stall, and to be led about in the fields and lanes 
quietly, but now I was to have a bit and bridle; 
my master gave me some oats as usual, and 
after a good deal of coaxing he got the bit into 
my mouth and the bridle fixed, but it iwas a 
nasty thing. Those who have never had a bit in 
their mouths cannot think how badly it feels; 
a great piece of cold hard steel as thick as a man’s 
finger to be pushed into one’s mouth, between 
one’s teeth, and over one’s tongue, with the ends 
coming out at the comers of your mouth, and held 
fast there by straps over your head, under your 
throat, round your nose, and under your chin; 
so that no way in the world can you get rid 
of the nasty hard thing; it is very bad! at least I 
thought so; but I knew my mother always wore 
one when she went out, and so, what with the 
nice oats, and what with my master’s pats, kind 
words, and gentle ways, I got to wear my bit 
and bridle. 

Next came the saddle, but that was not half 
so bad; my master put it on my back very gently, 
while old Daniel held my head; he then made the 
girths fast under my body, patting and talking 
to me all the time; then I had a few oats, then a 
little leading about; and this he did every day 
till I began to look for the oats and the saddle. 


18 


BLACK BEAUTY 









At length, one morning, my “master got on my 
back and rode me around the meadow on the 
soft grass. It certainly did feel queer; but I 
must say I felt rather proud to carry my mas¬ 
ter, and as he continued to ride me a little every 
day, I soon became accustomed to it. 

The next unpleasant business was putting on 
the iron shoes; that too was very hard at first. 
My master went with me to the smith’s forge, 
to see that I was not hurt or got any fright. 
The blacksmith took my feet in his hand one after 
the other, and cut away some of the hoof. It 
did not pain me, so I stood still on three legs until 
he had done them all. Then he took a piece of 
iron the shape of my foot, and clapped it on, 
and drove some nails through the shoe quite into 
my hoof, so that the shoe was firmly on. My 
feet felt very stiff and heavy,, but I got used to it. 

And now having got so far, my master went 
on to break me to harness; there were more new 
things to wear. First, a stiff heavy collar just 
on my neck, and a bridle with great side-pieces 
against my eyes, called blinkers, and blinkers 
indeed they were, for I could not see on either 
side, but only straight in front of me; next there 
was a small saddle with a nasty stiff strap that 
went right under my tail; that was the crupper. 
I hated the crupper—to have my long tail doubled 
up and poked through that strap was almost 
as bad as the bit. I felt like kicking, but of 
course I could not kick such a good master, and 
so in time I got used to everything, and could 
do my work as well as my mother. 











BLACK BEAUTY 


19 


I must not forget to mention one part of my 
training, which I have always considered a very 
great advantage. My master sent me for a fort¬ 
night to a neighboring farmer’s, who had a mea¬ 
dow which was skirted on one side by the railway. 
Here were some sheep and cows, and I was turned 
in among them. 

I shall never forget the first traufthat ran by. 
I was feeding quietly near the pales which%epar- 
ated the meadow from the railway, when I heard 
a strange sound at a distance, and before I knew 
whence it came—with a rush and a clatter, and 
a puffing out of smoke—a long black train of 
something flew by, and was gone almost be¬ 
fore I could draw my breath. I turned and gal¬ 
loped to the further side of the meadow as fast 
as I could go, and there I stood snorting with 
astonishment and fear. In the course of the day 
many other trains went by, some more slowly; 
these drew up at the station close by, and some¬ 
times made an awful shriek and groan before 
they stopped. I thought it very dreadful, but 
the cows went on eating very quietly, and hardly 
raised their heads as the black, frightful thing 
came puffing and grinding past. For the first 
few days I could not feed in peace; but as I found 
that this terrible creature never came into the 
field, or did me any harm, I began to disregard 
it, and very soon I cared as little about the 
passing of a train as the cows and sheep did. 

Since then I have seen many horses much 
alarmed and restive at the sight or sound of a 
steam engine; but, thanks to my good master’s 









20 


BLACK BEAUTY 


care, I am as fearless at railway stations as in 
my own stable. Now if any one wants to break 
in a young horse well, that is the way. 

My master often drove me in double harness, 
with my mother, because she was steady and 
could teach me how to go better than a strange 
horse. She told me the better I behaved the 
better I should be treated, and that it was wisest 
always to do my best to please my master; “But,” 
said she, “there are a great many kinds of men; 
there are good, thoughtful men, like our master, 
that any horse may be proud to serve; and there 
are cruel men, who never ought to have a horse 
or a dog to call their own. Besides, there are a 
great many foolish men, ignorant and careless, 
who never trouble themselves to think; these 
spoil more horses than all, just for want of sense; 
they don’t mean it, but they do it for all that. 
I hope you will fall into good hands; but a horse 
never knows who may buy him, or who may 
drive him; it is all a chance for us; but do your 
best wherever it is, and keep up your good name.” 



BLACK BEAUTY 21 

CHAPTER IV. 

BIRTWICK PARK. 

At this time I used to stand in the stable, and 
my coat was brushed every day till it shone like 
a rook’s wing. It was early in May, when there 
came a man from Squire Gordon’s, who took me 
away to the Hall. My master said, “Good-bye, 
Darkie, be a good horse and always do your 
best.’’ I could not say “Good-bye,” so I put 
my nose into his hand; he patted me kindly, 
and I left my first home. As I lived some years 
with Squire Gordon I may as well tell something 
about the place. 

Squire Gordon’s park skirted the village of 
Birtwick. It was entered by a large iron gate, 
at which stood the first lodge, and then you 
trotted along on a smooth road between clumps 
of large old trees; then another lodge and another 
gate, which brought you to the house and the 
gardens. Beyond this lay the home paddock, 
the old orchard and the stables. There was 
accommodation for many horses and carriages, 
but I need only describe the stable into which 
I was taken; this was very roomy, with four good 
stalls; a large swinging window opened into 
the yard, which made it pleasant and airy. 

The first stall was a large square one, shut in 
behind with a wooden gate. The others were 
common stalls, not nearly so large. It had a 
low rack for hay and a low manger for corn; it 
was called a loose box, because the horse put into 
it was not tied up, but left loose, to do as he 




22 BLACK BEAUTY 

liked. It is a great thing to have a loose box. 

Into this fine box the groom put me; it was 
clean, sweet and airy. I never was in a better 
box than that, and the sides were not so high but 
that I could see all that went on through the iron 
rails that were at the top. 

He gave me some very nice oats, he patted 
me, spoke kindly, and then went away. 

When I had eaten my oats I looked round. 
In the stall next to mine stood a little fat gray 
pony, with a thick mane and tail, a very pretty 
head and a pert little nose. I put my head up 
to the iron rails at the top of my box and said, 
“How do you do? What is your name?” 

He turned round as far as his halter would 
allow, held up his head, and said, “My name is 
Merrylegs. I am very handsome. I carry the 
young ladies on my back, and sometimes I take 
our mistress out in the low chaise. They think 
a great deal of me. Are you going to live next 
door to me in the box?” I said, “Yes.” 

“Well, then,” he said, “I hope you are good- 
tempered; I do not like anyone next door who 
bites.” Just then a horse’s head looked over 
from the stall beyond; the ears were laid back 
and the eyes looked rather ill-tempered. This 
was a tall chestnut mare, with a long, handsome 
neck; she looked across to me and said: “So you 
have turned me out of my box; it is a very strange 
thing for a colt like you to come and turn a lady 
out of her own home.” 






BLACK BEAUTY 


23 


ing to do with it; and as to my being a colt, I am 
turned four years old and am a grown-up horse. 
I never had words yet with horse or mare, and 
it is my wish to live at peace.” 

“Well,” she said, “we shall see; I do not want 
to have words with a young thing like you.” I 
said no more. 

In the afternoon, Merrylegs told me all about 
it. “The thing is this,” said Merrylegs. “Gin¬ 
ger has a habit of biting and snapping; that is 
whyl they call her Ginger, and when she was in 
the loose box she used to snap very much. One 
day she bit James in the arm and made it bleed, 
and so Miss Flora, and Miss Jessie who are very 
fond of me, were afraid to come into the stable. 
They used to bring me nice things to eat, an 
apple or a carrot or a piece of bread, but after 
Ginger stood in that box they dared not come, 
and I missed them very much. I hope they will 
now come again, if you do not bite or snap.” 

I told him I never bit anything but grass, hay 
and corn, and could not think what pleasure 
Ginger found in it. 

“Well, I don’t think she does find pleasure,” 
said Merrylegs; “it is just a bad habit; she says 
no one was ever kind to her, and why should she 
not bite? It is a very bad habit, but I am sure 
if all she says be true she must have been very 
ill-used before she came here. John does all 
he can to please her, and James does all he can, 
and our master never uses a whip if a horse acts 
right, so I think she might be good-tempered 

here; you see,” he said, with a wise look, “I am 
8 













BLACK BEAUTY 







24 

twelve years old, I know a great deal, and I can 
tell you there is not a better place for a horse 
all around the country than this. John is the best 
groom that ever was; he has been here fourteen 
years; and you never saw such a kind boy as 
James is; so that it is Ginger’s^own fault that 
she did not stay in that box.” 



CHAPTER V. 

A FAIR START. 


The name of the coachman was John Manly; 
he had a wife and one little child, and they lived 
in the coachman’s cottage very near the stables. 

The next morning he took me into the yard 
and gave me a good grooming, and just as I was 
going into my box, with my coat soft and bright, 
the Squire came in to look at me, and seemed 
pleased. “John,” he said, “I meant to have 
tried the new horse this morning, but I have 





BLACK BEAUTY 25 

after breakfast; go by the common and the High- 
wood, and back by the water-mill and the river; 
that will show his paces.” 

“I will, sir,” said John. After breakfast he 
came and fitted me with a bridle. He was very 
particular in letting out and taking in the straps, 
to fit my head comfortably; then he brought a 
saddle, but it was not broad enough for my back; 
he saw it in a minute and went for another, which 
fitted nicely. He rode me first slowly, then a 
trot, then a canter, and when we were on the 
common he gave me a light touch with his whip, 
and we had a splendid gallop. 

“Ho, ho! my boy,” he said, as he pulled me 
up, “you would like to follow the hounds, I 
think.” 

We came back through the park and met the 
Squire and Mrs. Gordon walking; they stopped 
and John jumped off. 

“Well, John, how does he go?” 

“First-rate, sir,” answered John; ‘lie is as 
fleet as a deer, and has a fine spirit, too; but the 
lightest touch of the rein will guide him. At 
the end of the common we met one of those 
travelling carts hung all over with baskets, rugs, 
and such like; you know, sir, many horses won't 
pass those carts quietly; he just took a good look 
at it, and then went on as quiet and pleasant as 
could be. They were shooting rabbits near the 
Highwood, and a gun went off close by; he pulled 
up a little and looked, but didn’t stir a step to 
right or left. I held the rein steady and didn’t 
hurry him, and it’s my opinion he has not been 





BLACK .BEAUTY 

or ill-used while he was young.” 
well,” said the Squire; ”1 will try him 
myself to-morrow.” The next day I was brought 
up for my master. I remembered my mother’s 
counsel and my good old master’s, and I tried to 
do exactly what he wanted me to do. I found he 
was a very good rider, and thoughtful for his 
horse, too. When he came home, the lady was 
at the hall-door as he rode up. “Well, my dear,” 
she said, “how do you like him?” 

“He is exactly what John said,” he replied; 
“a pleasanter creature I never wish to mount. 

What shall we call him?” 

And she said, “Would you like ‘Ebony? ? He is as 
black as ebony.” 

“No, not Ebony.” 

“Will you call him ‘Blackbird/ like your uncle’s 
old horse?” 

“No, he is far handsomer than old Blackbird 
ever was.” 

“Yes,” she said, “he is really quite a beauty, 
and he has such a sweet, good-tempered face and 
such a fine, intelligent eye—what do you say 
to calling him ‘Black Beauty’T’ 

“Black Beauty—why, yes, I think that is a 
very good name. If you like, it shall be his 
name;” and so it was. 

When John went into the stable he told James 
that the master and mistress had chosen a good 
sensible name for me, that meant something; 
not like Marengo, or Pegasus, or Abdallah. They 
both laughed, and James said, “If it was not for 
bringing back the past, I should have named 




►u 







BLACK BEAUTY 27 



him ‘Rob Roy/ for I never saw two horses more 
alike.’ 2 

“That’s no wonder,” said John; “didn’t you 
know that farmer Gray’s old Duchess was the 
mother of them both?” 

I had never heard that before; and so poor 
Rob Roy who was killed at that hunt was my broth¬ 
er! I did not wonder that my mother was so 
troubled. It seems that horses have no relations; 
at least they never know each other after they 
are sold. 

John seemed very proud of me; he used to 
make my mane and tail almost as smooth as a 
lady’s hair, and he would talk to me a great 
deal; of course, I did not understand all he said, 
but I learned more and more to know what he 
meant and what he wanted me to do. I grew 
very fond of him, he was so gentle and kind; he 
seemed to know just how a horse feels, and when he 
cleaned me he knew the tender places and the ticklish 
places; when he brushed my head, he went as care¬ 
fully over my eyes as If they were Ms own, and 
never stirred up any ill-temper. 

James Howard, the stable boy, was just as 
gentle and pleasant in his way, so I thought 
myself well off. There was another man who 
helped in the yard, but he had very little to do 
with Ginger and me. 

A few days after this I had to go out with Gin¬ 
ger in the carriage. I wondered how we should 
get on together; but except laying her ears back 
when I was led up to her, she behaved very 
well. She did her work honestly, and did her full 


* 




28 


BLACK BEAUTY 


share, and I never wish to have a better partner 
in double harness. When we came to a hill, 
instead of slackening her pace she would throw 
her weight right into the collar, and pull away 
straight up. We had both the same sort of cour¬ 
age at our work, and John had oftener to hold us 
in than to urge us forward; he never had to use 
the whip with either of us; then our paces were 
much the same, and I found it very easy to 
keep step with her when trotting, which made 
it pleasant, and master always liked it when we 
kept step well, and so did John. After we had 
been out a few times together we grew friendly 
and sociable, which made me feel very much 
at home. 

As for Merrylegs, he and I soon became great 
friends; he was such a cheerful, plucky, good- 
tempered little fellow, that he was a favorite 
with every one, and especially with Miss Jessie 
and Flora, who used to ride him about in the 
orchard, and have fine games with him and their 
little dog Frisky. Our master had two other 
horses that stood in another stable. One was 
Justice, a roan cob, used for riding, or for the 
luggage cart; the other was an old brown hunter, 
named Sir Oliver; he was past work now, but 
was a great favorite with the master, who gave 
him the run of the park; he sometimes did a little 
light carting on the estate, or carried one of the 
young ladies when they rode out with their father; 
for he was very gentle, and could be trusted with 
a child as well as Merrylegs. The cob was 
a strong, well-made, good-tempered horse, and we 


















BLACK BEAUTY 29 

sometimes had a little chat in the paddock, but 
of course I could not be so intimate with him 
as with Ginger, who stood in the same 


CHAPTER VI. 

I2BERTY. 




I was quite happy in my new place, 
there was one thing I missed, it must not 
thought I was discontented; all who had to 
with me were good, and I had a light, airy stable 
and the best of food. What more could I want? 
Why, liberty! For three years and a half of 
I had had all the liberty I could wish for; 
week after week, month after month, 
doubt year after year, I must stand up in a 
night and day except when I am wanted, and 
then I must be just as steady and quiet as any 
old horse who has worked twenty years. Straps 
here and straps there, a bit 
blinkers over my eyes. Now 




30 


BLACK BEAUTY 





plaining, for I know it must be so; I only mean 
to say that for a young horse full of strength and 
spirits, who has been used to some large field 
or plain, where he can fling up his head, and toss 
up his tail and gallop away at full speed, then 
round and back again with a snort to his com¬ 
panions—I say it is hard never to have a bit 
more liberty to do as you like. Sometimes, 
when I have had less exercise than usual, I have 
felt so full of life and spring, that when John has 
taken me out to exercise I really could not keep 
quiet; do what I would, it seemed as if I must 
jump, or dance, or prance, and many a good shake 
I know I must have given him; but he was al¬ 
ways good and patient. 

“Steady, steady, my boy,” he would say; “wait 
a bit, and we’ll have a good swing, and soon get 
the tickle out of your feet.” Then as soon as 
we were out of the village he would give me a 
few miles at a spanking trot, and then bring 
me back as fresh as before, only clear of the fidgets, 
as he called them. Spirited horses, when not 
enough exercised, are often called skittish, when it 
is only play; and some grooms will punish them, 
but our John did not; he knew it was only high 
spirits. Still, he had his own ways of making 
me understand by the tone of his voice or the 
touch of the rein. If he was quite determined, 
I always knew it by his voice, and that had more 
power with me than anything else, for I was 
very fond of him. 

I ought to say that sometimes we had our 
liberty for a few hours; this used to be on fine Sun- 





BLACK BEAUTY 


31 


days in the summer-time. The carriages never 
went out on Sundays, because the church was 
not far off. 

It was a great treat to us to be turned out 
into the home paddock or the old orchard; the 
grass was so cool and soft to our feet, the air so 
sweet, and the freedom to do as we liked was 
so pleasant—to gallop, to lie down, and roll over 
on our backs, or to nibble the sweet grass. Then 
it was a very good time for talking, as we stood 
together under the shade of the large chestnut 
tree. 


CHAPTER VII. 

GINGER. 

One day when Ginger and I were standing 
alone in the shade, we had a great deal of talk; 
she wanted to know all about my bringing up and 
breaking in, and I told her. 

"Well,” said she, “if I had had your bringing up, 
I might have had as good a temper as you, but now 
I don’t believe I ever shall.” 

"Why not?” I said. "Because it has all been 
so different with me,” she replied. "7 never had 
any one, horse or man, that was kind to me, or that 
I cared to please, for in the first place I was taken 
from my mother as soon as I was weaned and put 
with a lot of other young colts; none of them 
cared ”for me, and I cared for none of them. 
There was no kind master like yours to look after 
me, and talk to me, and bring me nice things to 
eat. The man that had care of us never gave me 







32 


BLACK BEAUTY 






a kind word in my life. I do not mean that 
he ill-used me, but he did not care for us one bit 
further than to see that we had plenty to eat and 
a shelter in the winter. A footpath ran through 
our field, and veiy often the great boys passing 
through would fling stones to make us gallop. 
I was never hit, but one fine young colt was badly 
cut in the face, and I should think it would be a 
scar for life. We did not care for them, but of 
course it made us more wild, and we settled it 
in our minds that boys were our enemies. We 
had very good fun in the free meadows, galloping 
up and down and chasing each other round and 
round the field, then standing still under the 
shade of the trees. But when it came to breaking 
in, that was a bad time for me; several men 
came to catch me, and when at last they closed 
me in at one corner of the field, one caught me 
by the forelock, another caught me by the nose 
and held it so tight I could hardly draw my breath; 
then another took my under jaw in his hard hand 
and wrenched my mouth open, and so by force 
they got on the halter and the bar into my mouth; 
then one dragged me along by the halter, another 
flogging behind, and this was the first experience 
I had of men’s kindness—it was all force. They 
did not give me a chance to know what they want¬ 
ed. I was high-bred and had a great deal of 
spirit, and was very wild, no doubt, and gave 
them, I dare say, plenty of trouble, but then it 
was dreadful to be shut up in a stall day after 
day instead of having my liberty, and I fretted 
and pined and wanted to get loose. You know 




33 


BLACK BEAUTY 


yourself it’s bad enough when you have a kind 
master and plenty of coaxing, but there was 
nothing of that sort for me. 

“There was one—the old master, Mr. Ryder 
—who, I think, could soon have brought me round, 
and could have done anything with me; but he 
had given up all the hard part of the trade to 
his son and to another experienced man, and he 
only came at times to oversee. His son was a 
strong, tall, bold man; they called him Samson, 
and he used to boast that he had never found 
a horse that could throw him. There was no 
gentleness in him, as there was in his father, 
but only hardness, a hard voice, a hard eye, a 
hard hand; and I felt from the first that what he 
wanted was to wear all the spirit out of me, and 
just make me into a quiet, humble, obedient 
piece of horse-flesh. ‘Horse-flesh!’ Yes, that is 
all that he thought about,” and Ginger stamped 
her foot as if the very thought of him made her 
angry. Then she went on:— 

I “If I did not do exactly what he wanted, 
he would get put out and make me run around 
with that long rein in the training field till he had 
tired me out. I think he drank a good deal, 
and I am quite sure that the oftener he drank the 
worse he was for me. One day he had worked 
me hard in every way he could, and when I lay 
down I was tired and miserable and angry; it all 
seemed so hard. The next morning he came for 
me early, and ran me round again for a long 
time. I had scarcely had an hour’s rest when 
he came again for me with a saddle and bridle 




34 


BLACK BEAUTY 





and a new kind of bit. I could never quite tell 
how it came about; he had only just mounted 
me on the training ground, when something I 
did put him out of temper, and he chucked me 
hard with the rein. The new bit was very 
painful, and I reared up suddenly, which angered 
him still more, and he began to flog me. I 
felt my whole spirit set against him, and I began 
to kick and plunge and rear as I had never done 
before, and we had a regular fight; for a long time 
he stuck to the saddle and punished me cruelly 
with his whip and spurs, but my blood was 
thoroughly up, and I cared for nothing he could 
do if only I could get him off. At last, after 
a terrible struggle, I threw him off backwards. 
I heard him fall heavily on the turf, and without 
looking behind me I galloped off to the other 
end of the field; there I turned round and saw 
him slowly rising from the ground and going 
into the stable. I stood under an oak tree and 
watched, but no one came to catch me. The 
time went on, and the sun was very hot; the flies 
swarmed round me and settled on my bleeding 
flanks where the spurs had dug in. I felt hun¬ 
gry, for I had not eaten since the early morning, 
but there was not enough grass in that meadow 
for a goose to live on. I wanted to lie down and 
rest, but with the saddle strapped tightly on there 
was no comfort, and there was not a drop of water 
to drink. The afternoon wore on, and the sun 
got low. I saw the other colts led in, and I 
knew they were having a good feed. 

“At last, just as the sun went down, I saw 









BLACK BEAUTY 


35 


the old master come out with a sieve in his hand. 
He was a very fine _ old gentleman with quite 
white hair, but his voice was what I should know 
him by, among a thousand. It was not high, 
nor yet low, but full and clear and kind, and 
when he gave orders it was so steady and decided 
that every one knew, both horses and men, that 
he expected to be obeyed. He came quietly 
along now and then, shaking the oats about, that 
he had in the sieve, and speaking cheerfully and 
gently to me: ‘Come along, lassie, come along, 
lassie; come along, come along.’ I stood still 
and let him come up; he held the oats to me, 
and I began to eat without fear; his voice took 
all my fear away. He stood by, patting and 
stroking me while I was eating, and seeing the 
clots of blood on my side he seemed very vexed. 
‘Poor lassie! it was a bad business, a bad business!’ 
Then he quietly took the rein and led me to the 
stable; just at the door stood Samson. I laid 
my ears back and snapped at him. ‘Stand 
back,’ said the master, ‘and keep out of her 
way; you’ve done a bad day’s work for this 
filly.’ He growled out something about a vicious 
brute. ‘Hark ye,’ said the father, ‘a bad-tem¬ 
pered man will never make a good-tempered 
horse. You’ve not learned your trade yet, Sam¬ 
son.’ Then he led me into my box, took off the 
saddle and bridle with his own hands, and tied 
me up; then he called for a pail of warn water 
and a sponge, took off his coat, and while the 
stable-man held the pail he sponged my sides a 
good while, so tenderly that I was sure he knew 










36 


BLACK BEAUTY 





how sore and bruised they were. 'Whoa! my 
pretty one/ he said, ‘stand still, stand still/ 
His very voice did me good, and the bathing was 
very comfortable. The skin was so broken at 
the corners of my mouth that I could not eat 
the hay, the stalks hurt me. He looked closely 
at it, shook his head, and told the man to fetch 
a good bran mash and put some meal into it. 
How good that mash was! and so soft and heal¬ 
ing to my mouth. He stood by all the time I 
was eating, stroking me and talking to the man. 
‘If a high-mettled creature like this/ said he, 
‘can’t be broken in by fair means, she will never 
be good for anything.’ 

“After that he often came to see me, and 
when my mouth was healed, the other breaker. 
Job, they called him, went on training me: he was 
steady and thoughtful, and I soon learned what 
he wanted,” 





BLACK BEAUTY 3 T 

CHAPTER VIII. 


GINGER’S STORY CONTINUED. 

The next time that Ginger and I were together 
in the paddock she told me about her first place. 
“After my breaking in,” she said, “I was bought 
by a dealer to match another chestnut horse. 
For some weeks he drove us together, and then 
we were sold to a fashionable gentleman, and 
were sent up to London. I had been driven with 
a check-rein by the dealer, and I hated it worse 
than anything else; but in this place we were 
reined far tighter, the coachman and his master 
thinking we looked more stylish so. We were 
often driven about in the park and other fashion¬ 
able places. You who never had a check-rein 
on don't know, but I can tell you it is dreadful. 

“I like to toss my head about, and hold it as 
high as any horse; but fancy yourself, if you tossed 
your head up high, and were obliged to hold it 
there , and that for hours together , not able to move 
it at all except with a jerk still higher , your neck 
aching till you did not know how to bear it . Be¬ 
sides that, to have two bits instead of one, and 
mine was a sharp one; it hurt my tongue and my 
jaw, and the blood from my tongue colored the 
froth that kept flying from my lips, as I chafed 
and fretted at the bits and rein. It was worse 
when we had to stand by the hour waiting for our 
mistress at some grand party or entertainment; and 
if I fretted or stamped with impatience the 
whip was laid on. It was enough to drive one 
mad.” 







38 


BLACK BEAUTY 



not your master take any thought for 
you?” I said. “No,” said she, “he only cared 
to have a stylish turnout, as they called it; I 
think he knew very little about horses; he left 
that to his coachman, who told him I had an 
irritable temper, that I had not been well broken 
to the check-rein, but I should soon get used to 
it; but he was not the man to do it, for when I 
was in the stable, miserable and angry, instead 
of being soothed and quieted by kindness, I got 
only a surly word or a blow. If he had been civil 
I would have tried to bear it. I was willing to 
work, and ready to work hard, too; but to be 
tormented for nothing but their fancies angered 
me. What right had they to make me suffer 
like that? Besides the soreness in my mouth 
and the pain in my neck, it always made my wind¬ 
pipe feel bad, and if I had stayed there long I know 
it would have spoiled my breathing; but I grew 
more and more restless and irritable; I could 
not help it; and I began to snap and kick when 
anyone came to harness me; for this the groom 
beat me, and one day, as they had just buckled 
us into the carriage, and were straining my head 
with that rein, I plunged and kicked with all 
I soon broke a lot of harness, and 
clear; so that was an end of that 


ifter this I was sent to Tattersall’s to be 
of course I could not be warranted free 
so nothing was said about that. My 
good paces soon brought 
me, and I was bought by 


BLACK BEAUTY 


39 



another dealer; he tried me in all 
and with different bits, and he soon found out 
what I could not bear. At last he drove me 
quite without a check-rein, and then sold me as 
a perfectly quiet horse to a gentleman in the 
country; he was a good master, and I was getting 
on very well, but his old groom left him and a 
new one came. This man was as hard-tem¬ 
pered and hard-handed as Samson; he always 
spoke in a rough, impatient voice, and if I did 
not move in the stall the moment he wanted 
me, he would hit me above the hocks with his 
stable broom or the fork, whichever he might 
have in his hand. Everything he did was rough, 
and I began to hate him; he wanted to make me 
afraid of him, but I was too high-mettled for that, 
and one day, when he had exasperated me more 
than usual, I bit him, which of course put him 
in a great rage, and he began to hit me about 
the head with a riding-whip. After that he 
never dared to come into my stall again; either 
my heels or my teeth were ready for him, and 
he knew it. I was quite quiet with my master, 
but of course he listened to what the man said, 
and so I was sold again. 

“The same dealer heard of me, and said he 
thought he knew one place where I should do well. 
"Twas a pity,’ he said, ‘that such a fine horse 
should go to the bad for want of a real 
chance,’ and the end of it was that I 
not long before you did; but I had 
my mind that men were my natural enemies 
that I must defend myself. Of 













40 


BLACK BEAUTY 





very different here, but who knows how long 
it will last? I wish I could think about things as 
you do, but I can’t, after all I have gone through.” 

“Well,” I said, “I think it would be a real 
shame if you were to bite or kick John or James.” 

“I don’t mean to,” she said, “while they are 
good to me. I did bite James once pretty sharp, 
but John said, Try her with kindness,’ and in¬ 
stead of punishing me as I expected, James 
came to me with his arm bound up, and brought 
me a bran mash and stroked me; and I have 
never snapped at him since, and I won’t either.” 

I was sorry for Ginger, but of course I knew 
very little then, and I thought most likely she 
made the worst of it; however, I found that as 
the weeks went on she grew much more gentle 
and cheerful, and had lost the watchful, defiant 
look that she used to turn on any strange person 
that came near her; and one day James said, 
“I do believe that mare is getting fond of me; 
she quite whinnied after me this morning when 
I had been rubbing her forehead.” 

“Ay, ay, Jim, ’tis ‘the Birtwick balls,’ ” said 
John; “she’ll be as good as Black Beauty by and 
by; kindness is all the physic she wants, poor 
thing!” Master noticed the change too, and 
one day when he got out of the carriage and came 
to speak to us, as he often did, he stroked her 
beautiful neck. “Well, my pretty one, well, 
how do things go with you now? You are a good 
bit happier than when you came to us, I think.” 

She put her nose up to him in a friendly, trust¬ 
ful way, while he rubbed it gently. “We shall 





BLACK BEAUTY 41 

make a cure of her, John,” he said. “Yes, sir, 
she’s wonderfully improved; she’s not the same 
creature that she was; it’s ‘the Birtwick balls,’ 
sir,” said John, laughing. 

This was a little joke of John’s; he used to say 
that a regular course of “the Birtwick horse-balls” 
would cure almost any vicious horse; these balls, 
he said, were made up of patience and gentleness, 
firmness and petting; one pound of each to be mixed 
up with a pint of commonsense, and given to the 
horse every day. 


CHAPTER IX. 

MERRYLEGS. 

Mr. Bloomfield, the Vicar, had a large family 
of boys and girls; sometimes they used to come 
and play with Miss Jessie and Flora. One of 
the girls was as old as Miss Jessie; two of the 
boys were older, and there were several little ones. 
When they came there was plenty of work for 
Merrylegs, for nothing pleased them so much as 
getting on him by turns and riding him all about 
the orchard and the home paddock, and this they 
would do by the hour together. 

One afternoon he had been out with them a 
long time, and when James brought him in and 
put on his halter, he said: “There, you rogue, 
mind how you behave yourself, or we shall get 
into trouble.” 

“What have you been doing, Merrylegs?” 
I asked. 



42 


BLACK BEAUTY 





“Oh!” saicThe, tossing his little head, “I have 
only been giving those young people a lesson; 
they did not know when they had had enough, 
so I just pitched them off backwards; that was 
the only thing they could understand.” 

“What?” said I, “you threw the children off? 
I thought you did know better than that! Did 
you throw Miss Jessie or Miss Flora?” 

He looked very much offended and said, “Of 
course not; I would not do such a thing for the 
best oats that ever came into the stable; why, 
I am as careful of our young ladies as the mas¬ 
ter could be, and as for the little ones, it is I 
who teach them to ride. When they seem fright¬ 
ened or a little unsteady on my back, I go as smooth 
and as quiet as an old pussy when she is after 
a bird; and when they are all right I go on again 
faster, you see, just to use them to it; so don’t 
you trouble yourself preaching to me; I am the 
best friend and the best riding-master those 
children have. It is not them, it is the boys; 
boys,” said he, shaking his mane, “are quite 
different; they must be broken in, as we were 
broken in when we were colts, and just be taught 
what’s what. The other children had ridden 
me about for nearly two hours, and then the 
boys thought it was their turn; and so it was, 
and I was quite agreeable. They rode me by 
turns, and I galloped them about, up and down the 
fields and all about the orchard, for a good hour. 
They had each cut a great hazel stick for a rid¬ 
ing-whip, and laid it on a little too hard; but I 
took it in good part, till at last I thought we had 





















44 


BLACK BEAUTY 


had enough, so I stopped two or three times by 
way of a hint. Boys, you see, think a horse or 
pony is like a steam engine or a threshing machine, 
and can go as long and as fast as they please; 
they never think that a pony can get tired, or 
have any feelings; so as the one who was whipping 
me could not understand, I just rose up on my 
hind legs and let him slip off behind—that was 
all; he mounted me again, and I did the same. 
Then the other boy got up, and as soon as he be¬ 
gan to use his stick I laid him on the grass, and 
so on, till they were able to understand, that 
was all. They are not bad boys; they don’t wish 
to be cruel. I like them very well; but you see I 
had to give them a lesson. When they brought 
me to James and told him, I think he was angry 
to see such big sticks. He said they were only 
fit for drovers, and not for young gentlemen.” 

‘‘If I had been you,” said Ginger, “I would 
have given those boys a good kick, and that would 
have given them a lesson.” 

“No doubt you would,” said Merrylegs; “but 
then I am not quite such a fool (begging your 
pardon) as to anger our master or make James 
ashamed of me; besides, those children are under 
my charge when they are riding; I tell you they 
are intrusted to me. Why, only the other day 
I heard our master say to Mrs. Bloomfield, ‘My 
dear madam, you need not be anxious about the 
children; my old Merrylegs will take as much 
care of them as you or I could; I assure you I 
would not sell that pony for any money, he is 
so perfectly good-tempered and trustworthy’; 










BLACK BEAUTY 


45 


and do you think I am such an ungrateful brute 
as to forget all the kind treatment I have had 
here for five years, and all the trust they place 
in me, and turn vicious, because a couple of ignor¬ 
ant boys used me badly? No, no! you never 
had a good place where they were kind to you! 
and so you don’t know, and I’m sorry for you; 
but I can tell you good places make good horses. 
I wouldn’t vex our people for anything; I love 
them, I do,” said Merrylegs, and he gave a low 
“ho, ho, ho,” through his nose, as he used to do 
in the morning when he heard James’ footstep 
at the door. 

“Besides,” he went on, “if I took to kicking, 
where should I be? Why, sold off in a jiffy, and 
no character, and I might find myself slaved 
about under a butcher’s boy, or worked to death 
at some seaside place where no one cared for me, 
except to find out how fast I could go, or be 
dogged along in some cart with three or four 
great men in it going out for a Sunday spree, as 
I have often seen in the place I lived in before I 
came here. No,” said he, shaking his head, 
“I hope I shall never come to that.” 









CHAPTER X. 

A TALK IN THE ORCHARD. 

Ginger and I were not of the regular tall carriage- 
horse breed, we had more of racing blood in us. 
We stood about fifteen and a half hands high; 
we were, therefore, just as good for riding as 
we were for driving, and our master used to say 
that he disliked either horse or man that could 
do but one thing; and, as he did not want to show 
off in London parks, he preferred a more active 
and useful kind of a horse. As for us, our great¬ 
est pleasure was when we were saddled for a 
riding party; the master on Ginger, the mistress 
on me, and the young ladies on Sir Oliver and 
Merrylegs. It was so cheerful to be trotting 
and cantering all together, that it always put us 
in high spirits. I had the best of it, for I always 
carried the mistress; her weight was little, her 
voice was sweet, and her hand was so light on 
the rein that I was guided almost without feel¬ 
ing it. 

Oh! if people knew what a comfort to horses a 
light hand is, and how it keeps a good mouth and 
a good temper, they surely would not chuck and 
drag and pull at the rein as they often do. Our 
mouths are so tender, that where they have not 
been spoiled or hardened with bad or ignorant 
46 










BLACK BEAUTY 


47 











never been 
y the mis- 
h her paces 


mouth 


treatment they feel the slightest movement of 
the driver’s hand, and we know in an instant what 
is required of us. My mouth had 
spoiled, and I believe that was why 
tress preferred me to Ginger, although her 
were certainly quite as good. She used 
to envy me, and said it was all the fault of break 
ing in, and the gag bit in London, that her 
was not so perfect as mine; and then old Sir Oliver 
would say, “There, there! don’t vex yourself; 
you have the greatest honor; a mare that can 
carry a tall man of our master’s weight, with 
all your spring and sprightly action, does not 
need to hold her head down because she does 
not carry the lady; we horses must take things 
as they come, and always be contented and 
willing, so long as we are kindly used.” 

I had often wondered how it was that Sir 
Oliver had such a very short tail; it really was 
only six or seven inches long, with a tassel of hair 
hanging from it; and on one of our holidays in 
the orchard I ventured to ask him by what acci¬ 
dent it was that he had lost his tail. 

“Accident!” he snorted, with a fierce look, “it 
was no accident! it was a cruel, shameful, cold¬ 
blooded act! When I was young I was taken to 
a place where these cruel things were done; I 
was tied up, so that I could not stir, and then 
they came and cut off my long, beautiful tail, 
through the flesh and through the bone, and 
took it away.” 

“How dreadful!” I exclaimed. 

“Dreadful—ah! it was dreadful; but it was not 






48 


BLACK BEAUTY 


only the pain, though that was terrible, and 
lasted a long time; it was not only the indignity 
of having my best ornament taken from me, 
though that was bad, but it was this: how could 
I ever brush the flies off my sides and my hind legs 
any more? You who have tails just whisk the 
flies off without thinking about it, and you can’t 
tell what a torment it is to have them settle 
upon you and sting and sting, and have nothing 
in the world to lash them off with. I tell you it 
is a life-long wrong and a life-long loss; but, thank 
Heaven, they don’t do it now.” 

"What did they do it for then?” said Ginger. 

“For fashion!” said the old horse, vith a stamp 
of his foot, "if you know what that means; there 
was not a well-bred young horse in my time 
that had not his tail docked in that shameful 
way, just as if the good God that made us did not 
know what we wanted, and what looked best.” 

"I suppose it is the fashion that makes them 
strap our heads up with those horrid bits that I 
was tortured with in London,” said Ginger. 

“Of course it is,” said he. “To my mind fashion 
is one of the wickedest things in the world. Now 
look, for instance, at the way they serve dogs, 
cutting off their tails to make them look plucky, 
and shearing up their pretty little ears to a 
point to make them look sharp, forsooth. I had 
a dear friend once, a brown terrier. ‘Skye,’ 
they called her. She was so fond of me that 
she never would sleep out of my stall; she made 
her bed under the manger, and there she had a 
litter of five as pretty little puppies as need 


BLACK BEAUTY 


49 


be; none were drowned, for they were a valuable 
kind, and how pleased she was with them! and 
when they got their eyes open and crawled about 
it was a real pretty sight. But one day the 
man came and took them all away. I thought 
he might be afraid I should tread upon them. 
But it was not so; in the evening poor Skye brought 
them back again, one by one, in her mouth; not 
the happy little things that they were, but 
bleeding and crying pitifully; they had all had a 
piece of their tails cut off, and the soft flap of 
their pretty little ears was cut quite off. How 
their mother licked them, and how troubled she 
was, poor thing! I never forgot it. They healed 
in time, and they forgot the pain, but the nice 
short flap, that of course was intended to protect 
the delicate part of their ears from dust and injury, 
was gone forever. Why don’t they cut their own 
children’s ears into points to make them look sharp? 
Why don’t they cut the ends of their noses to make 
them look plucky? One would be just as sensible 
as the other. What right have they to disfigure 
God’s creatures?” 

Sir Oliver, though he was so gentle, was a fiery 
old fellow, and what he said was all so new to 
me and so dreadful, that I found a bitter feeling 
toward men rise up in my mind that I never had 
before. Of course Ginger was very much ex¬ 
cited; she flung up her head with flashing eyes and 
distended nostrils, declaring that men were both 
brutes and blockheads. 

“Who talks about blockheads?” said Merry- 
legs, who just came up from the old apple-tree, 




50 BLACK BEAUTY 

where he had been rubbing himself against the 
low^branch. “Who talks about blockheads? I 
believe that is a bad word." 

•'Bad words were made for bad things/' said 
Ginger, and she told him what Sir Oliver had 
said. 

“It is all true," said Merrylegs, sadly, “and I 
have seen that about the dogs over and over 
again where I lived first; but we won't talk about 
it here. You know that master and John and 
James are always good to us, and talking against 
men in such a place as this doesn't seem fair or 
grateful, and you know there are good masters 
and good grooms besides ours, though of course 
ours are the best." 

This wise speech of good little Merrylegs, which 
we knew was quite true, cooled us all down, es¬ 
pecially Sir Oliver, who was dearly fond of his 
master; to turn the subject I said, “Can anyone 
tell me the use of blinkers?" 

“No!" said Sir Oliver, “because they are no use." 

“They are supposed," said Justice, the roan 
cob, in his calm way, “to prevent horses from 
shying and starting, and getting so frightened 
as to cause accidents." 

“Then what is the reason they do not put them 
outriding horses; especially on ladies ' horses ?" 

said I. 

“There is no reason at all," said he quietly, 
“except the fashion; they say that a horse would 
be so frightened to see the wheels of his own 
cart or carriage coming behind him that he would 
be sure to run away, although of course when he 











BLACK BEAUTY 


51 


is ridden he sees them all about him if the streets 
are crowded. I admit they do sometimes come 
too close to be pleasant, but we don’t run away; 
we are used to it, and understand it, and if we 
never had blinkers put on we should never want 
them; we should see what was there, and know 
what was what, and be much less frightened than 
by only seeing bits of things that we can’t under¬ 
stand. Of course there may be some nervous 
horses who have been hurt or frightened when 
they were young, who may be the better for them; 
but as I never was nervous, I can’t judge. 

“I consider,” said Sir Oliver, “that blinkers 
are dangerous things in the night; we horses can 
see much better in the dark than men can, and 
many an accident would never have happened 
if horses might have had the full use of their 
eyes. Some years ago, I remember, there was 
a hearse with two horses returning one dark night, 
and just by Farmer Sparrow’s house, where the 
pond is close to the road, the wheels went too near 
the edge, and the hearse was overturned into the 
water; both the horses were drowned, and the 
driver hardly escaped. Of course after this acci¬ 
dent a stout white rail was put up that might be 
easily seen; but if those horses had not been partly 
blinded, they would of themselves have kept 
farther from the edge, and no accident would have 
happened. When our master’s carriage was over¬ 
turned, before you came here, it was said that 
if the lamp on the left side had not gone out 
John would have seen the great hole that the 
road-makers had left; and so he might; but if 











52 


BLACK BEAUTY 


old Colin had not had blinkers on he would have 
seen it, lamp or no lamp, for he was far too know¬ 
ing an old horse to run into danger. As it was, 
he was very much hurt, the carriage was broken, 
and how John escaped nobody knew.” 

“I should say,” said Ginger, curling her nos¬ 
tril, “that these men, who are so wise, had better 
give orders that in future all foals should be born 
with their eyes set just in the middle of their 
foreheads, instead of on the side; they always 
think they can improve upon nature and mend 
what God has made.” 

Things were getting rather sore again, when 
Merrylegs held up his knowing little face and 
said, “I’ll tell you a secret: I believe John does 
not approve of blinkers; I heard him talking 
with master about it one day. The master 
said that ‘if horses had been used to them, it 
might be dangerous in some cases to leave them 
off’; and John said he thought it would be a good 
thing If all colts were broken In without blinkers, 
as was the case in some foreign countries. So 
let us cheer up, and have a run to the other end 
of the orchard; I believe the wind has blown 
down some apples, and we might just as well 
eat them as the slugs.” 

Merrylegs could not be resisted, so we broke 
off our long conversation, and got up our spirits 
by munching some very sweet apples which lay 
scattered on the grass. 





CHAPTER XI. 

PLAIN SPEAKING. 

The longer I lived at Birtwick, the more proud 
and happy I felt at having such a place. Our 
master and mistress were respected and beloved 
by all who knew them; they were good and kind 
to everybody and everything; not only to men 
and women, but to horses and donkeys, dogs and 
cats, cattle and birds; there was no oppressed 
or ill-used creature that had not a friend in them, 
and their servants took the same tone. If any 
of the village children were known to treat 
any creature cruelly, they soon heard about it 
from the Hall. 

The Squire and Farmer Grey had worked to¬ 
gether, as they said, for more than twenty years 
to get check-reins on the cart-horses done away 
with, and in our parts you seldom saw them; 
and sometimes if mistress met a heavily laden 
horse, with his head strained up, she would stop 
the carriage, and reason with the driver in her 
sweet, serious voice, and try to show him how 
foolish and cruel it was. 

I don’t think any man could withstand our 
63 






54 BLACK BEAUTY 

mistress. I wish all ladies were like her. Our 
master, too, used to come down very heavy 
sometimes. I remember he was riding me to¬ 
ward home one morning, when we saw a power¬ 
ful man driving toward us in a light pony chaise, 
with a beautiful little bay pony, with slender 
legs and a high-bred, sensitive head and face. 
Just as he came to the park gates, the little thing 
turned toward them; the man, without word or 
warning, wrenched the creature’s head round 
with such force and suddenness that he nearly 
threw it on its haunches; recovering itself, it was 
going on, when he began to lash it furiously; 
the pony plunged forward, but the strong heavy 
hand held the pretty creature back with force 
almost enough to break its jaw, while the whip 
still cut into him. It was a dreadful sight 
to me, for I knew what fearful pain it gave 
that delicate little mouth; but master gave 
me the word, and we were up with him in a 
second. 

“Sawyer,” he cried in a stem voice, “is that 
pony made of flesh and blood?” 

“Flesh and blood, and temper,” he said; “he’s 
too fond of his own will, and that won’t suit 
me.” He spoke as if he was in a strong passion; 
he was a builder, who had often been to the park 
on business. 

“And do you think,” said master, sternly, 
“that treatment like this will make him fond of 
your will?” 

“He had no business to make that turn; his 
road was straight on!” said the man roughly. 




BLACK'BEAUTY 


55 


“You have often driven that pony up to my 
place,” said master; “it only shows the creature’s 
memory and intelligence; how did he know 
that you were not going there again? But that 
has little to do with it. I must say, Sawyer, 
that more unmanly, brutal treatment of a little 
pony it was never my painful lot to witness; and 
by giving way to such passion you injure your 
own character as much, nay, more, than you 
injure your horse; and remember, we shall all 
have to be judged according to our works, whether 
they be toward man or toward beast.” 

Master rode me home slowly, and I could tell 
by his voice how deeply the thing had grieved 
him. 

He was just as free to speak to gentlemen of 
his own rank as to those below him; for another 
day, when we were out, we met a Captain Langley, 
a friend of our master’s; he was driving a splen¬ 
did pair of grays in a kind of brake. After a 
little conversation the Captain said: “What do 
you think of my new team, Mr. Douglas? You 
are the judge of horses in these parts, and I should 
like your opinion.” 

The master backed me a little, so as to get 
a good view of them. “They are an uncommon¬ 
ly handsome pair,” he said, “and if they are as 
good as they look, I am sure you need not wish 
for anything better; but I see you still hold that 
pet scheme of yours for worrying your horses 
and lessening their power.” 

“What do you mean?” said the other, “the 
eheck reins? Oh, ah! I know that’s a hobby of 












56 BLACK BEAUTY 

• 

yours; well, the fact is, I like to see my horses 
hold their heads up.” 

“So do I,” said master, “as well as any man, 
but I don’t like to see them held up; that takes 
all the shine out of it. Now, you are a military 
man, Langley, and no doubt like to see your 
regiment look well on parade, ‘heads up,’ and all 
that; but you would not take much credit for 
your drill if all your men had their heads tied 
to a backboard! It might not be much harm 
on parade, except to worry and fatigue them; 
but how would it be in a bayonet charge against 
the enemy, when they want the free use of every 
muscle, and all their strength thrown forward? 
I would not give much for their chance of victory. 
And it is just the same with horses: you fret and 
worry their tempers, and decrease their power; 
you will not let them throw their weight against 
their work, and so they have to do too much with 
their joints and muscles, and of course it wears 
them up faster. You may depend upon it, 
horses were intended to have their heads free, as 
free as men’s are; and if we could act a little 
more according to common sense, and a good deal 
less according to fashion, we should find many 
things work easier; besides, you know as well as 
I that if a horse makes a false step, he has much 
less chance of recovering himself if his head and 
neck are fastened back. And now,” said the mas¬ 
ter, laughing, “I have given my hobby a good trot 
out, can’t you make up your mind to mount him, 
too, captain? Your example would go a long 
way.” 


BLACK BEAUTY 


57 





“I believe you are right 
other, “and that’s rather 
soldiers; but—well—I’ll 
they parted. 


CHAPTER XII. 


A STORMY DAY. 

One day late in the autumn my master had 
a long journey to go on business. I was put into 
the dog-cart, and John went with his master. 
I always liked to go in the dog-cart, it was so 
light, and the high wheels ran along so pleasantly. 
There had been a great deal of rain, and now the 
wind was very high and blew the dry leaves 
across the road in a shower. We went along 
merrily till we came to the toll-bar and the low 
wooden bridge. The river banks were rather 
high, and the bridge, instead of rising, went across 
just level, so that in the middle, if the river was 
full, the water would be nearly up to the wood¬ 
work and planks; but as there were good sub¬ 
stantial rails on each side, people did not mind it. 

The man at the gate said the river was rising 
fast, and he feared it would be a bad night. Many 
of the meadows were under water, and in one low 
part of the road the water was half way up to my 
knees; the bottom was good, and master drove 
gently, so it was no matter. 

When we got to the town, of course I had a 





58 


BLACK BEAUTY 





good bait, but as the master’s business engaged 
him a long time, we did not start for home till 
rather late in the afternoon. The wind was 
then much higher, and I heard the master say 
to John he had never been out in such a storm; 
and so I thought, as we went along the skirts of 
a wood, where the great branches were swaying 
about like twigs, and the rushing sound was 
terrible. 

“I wish we were well out of this wood,” said 
my master. 

“Yes, sir,” said John, “it would be rather 
awkward if one of these branches came down 
upon us.” 

The words were scarcely out of his mouth 
when there was a groan, and a crack, and a split¬ 
ting sound, and tearing, crashing down among 
the other trees came an oak, tom up by the roots, 
and it fell right across the road just before us. 
I will never say I was not frightened, for I was. 
I stopped still, and trembled. Of course I did not 
turn round or run away; I was not brought up 
to that. John jumped out, and was in a moment 
at my head. “That was a very near touch,” 
said my master. “What’s to be done now?” 

“Well, sir, we can’t drive over that tree, nor 
yet get around it; there will be nothing for it 
but to go back to the four crossways, and that 
will be a good six miles before we get round 
to the wooden bridge again; it will make us late, 
but the horse is fresh.” 

So back we went and round by the cross-roads, 
but by the time we got to the bridge it was 














BLACK BEAUTY 59 

very nearly dark; we could just see that the water 
was oyer the middle of it; but as that happened 
sometimes when the floods were out, master did 
not stop. We were going along at a good pace, 
but the moment my feet touched the first part 
offthe bridge, I felt sure there was something 
wrong. I dare not go forward and I made a 
dead stop. “Go on, Beauty,” said my master, 
and he gave me a touch with the whip, but I dare 
not stir; he gave me a sharp cut; I jumped, but 
I dare not go forward. 

“There’s something wrong, sir,” said John, 
and he sprang out of the dog-cart, and came to 
my head and looked all about. He tried to lead 
me forward. “Come on, Beauty, what’s the 
matter?” Of course I could not tell him, but I 
knew very well that the bridge was not safe. 

Just then a man at the toll-gate on the other 
side ran out of the house, tossing a torch about 
like one mad. 

“Hoy, hoy, hoy! hello! stop!” he cried. 

“What’s the matter?” shouted my master. 

“The bridge is broken in the middle, and 
part of it is carried away; if you come on you’ll 
be into the river.” 

“Thank God!” said my master. “You Beauty!" 
said John, and took my bridle and gently turned 
me round to the right-hand road by the river 
side. The sun had set some time; the wind 
seemed to have lulled off after that furious blast 
which tore up the tree. It grew darker and darker, 
stiller and stiller. I trotted quietly along, the 
wheels hardly making a sound on the soft road. 




60 


BLACK BEAUTY 


For a good while neither master nor John spoke, 
and then master began in a serious voice. I 
could not understand much of what they said, 
but I found they thought, if I had gone on as 
the master wanted me, most likely the bridge 
would have given away under us, and horse, 
chaise, master, and man would have fallen into 
the river; and as the current was flowing very 
strongly, and there was no light and no help at 
hand, it was more than likely we should all 
have been drowned. Master said God had given 
men reason, by which they could find out things 
for themselves; but He had given animals knowl¬ 
edge, which did not depend on reason, and which 
was much more prompt and perfect in its way, 
and by which they had often saved the lives of men. 
John had many stories to tell of dogs and horses, 
and the wonderful things they had done; he thought 
people did not value their animals half enough, 
n©r make friends of them as they ought to do. 
I am sure he makes friends of them, if ever a 
man did. 

At last we came to the park gates, and found 
the gardener looking out for us. He said that 
mistress had been in a dreadful way ever since 
dark, fearing some accident had happened, and 
that she had sent James off on Justice, the roan 
cob, toward the bridge to make inquiry after us. 

We saw a light at the hall door and at the 
upper windows, and as we came out mistress 
ran out, saying, “Are you really safe, my dear? 
Oh! I have been so anxious, fancying all sorts of 
things. Have you had no accident?’’ 










BLACK BEAUTY 


61 


No, my dear; but if your Black Beauty had 
not been wiser than we were, we should all have 
been carried down the river at the wooden bridge.” 
I heard no more, as they went into the house, 
and John took me to the stable. Oh, what a 
good supper he gave me that night, a good bran 
mash and some crushed beans with my oats, and 
such a thick bed of straw! and I was glad of it, 
for I was tired. 



CHAPTER XIII. 


THE DEVIL’S TRADEMARK. 

One day when John and I had been out on 
some business of my master’s and were return¬ 
ing gently on a long, straight road, at some dis¬ 
tance we saw a boy trying to leap a pony over a 
gate; the pony would not take the leap, and the 
boy cut him with the whip, but he only turned 
off on one side. He whipped him again, but the pony 
turned off on the other side. Then theboy got off and 
gave him a hard thrashing, and knocked him about 
the head; then he got up again and tried to make 
him leap the gate, kicking him all the time shame¬ 
fully, but still the pony refused. When we were 
nearly at the spot, the pony put down his head 







62 BLACK BEAUTY 

and threw up his heels and sent the boy neatly 
over into a broad quickset hedge, and with 
the rein dangling from his head he set off home 
at a full gallop. John laughed out quite loud. 
“Served him right,” he said. “Oh, oh, oh!” 
cried the boy as he struggled about among the 
thorns; “I say, come and help me out.” 

“Thank ye,” said John, “I think you are quite 
in the right place, and maybe a little scratching 
will teach you not to leap a pony over a gate that 
is too high for him;” and so with that John rode 
off. “It may be,” said he to himself, “that 
young fellow is a liar as well as a cruel one; we’ll 
just go home by Farmer Bushby’s, Beauty, and 
then if anybody wants to know, you and I can 
tell ’em, ye see.” So we turned off to the right 
and soon came up to the stack-yard, and within 
sight of the house. The farmer was hurrying 
out into the road, and his wife was standing at 
the gate, looking very frightened. 

“Have you seen my boy?” said Mr. Bushby, 
as we came up; “he went out an hour ago on 
my black pony, and the creature is just come 
back without a rider.” 

“I should think, sir,” said John, “he had better 
be without a rider, unless he can be ridden prop¬ 
erly.” 

“What do you mean?” said the farmer. 

“Well, sir, I saw your son whipping, and 
kicking, and knocking that good little pony about 
shamefully, because he would not leap a gate 
that was too high for him. The pony behaved 
well, sir, and showed no vice; but at last he just 



i«<«j 



BLACK BEAUTY 


03 



threw up his heels, and tipped the young gentle¬ 
man into the thorn hedge; he wanted me to help 
him out; but, I hope you will excuse me, sir, I 
did not feel inclined to do so. There's no bones 
broken, sir, he’ll only get a few scratches. I 
love horses, and it riles me to see them badly 
used; it is a bad plan to aggravate an animal 
till he uses his heels; the first time is not always 
the last.” 

During this time the mother began to cry, 
“Oh, my poor Bill, I must go and meet him; he 
must be hurt.” 

“You had better go into the house, wife,” said 
the farmer; “Bill wants a lesson about this, and I 
must see that he gets it; this is not the first time, 
nor the second, that he has ill-used that pony, 
and I shall stop it. I am much obliged to you, 
Manly. Good-evening.” 

So he went on, John chuckling all the way 
home; then he told James about it, who laughed 
and said, “Served him right. I knew that boy 
at school; he took great airs on himself because 
he was a farmer’s son; he used to swagger about 
and bully the little boys; of course we elder ones 
would not have any of that nonsense, and let 
him know that in the school and the playground 
farmers’ sons and laborers’ sons were all alike. 
I well remember one day, just before afternoon 
school, I found him at a large window catching 
flies and pulling off their wings. He did not see 
me, and I gave him a box on the ears that laid 
him sprawling on the floor. Well, angry as I 
was, I was almost frightened, he roared and 






64 


BLACK BEAUTY 




bellowed in such a style. The boys rushed in 
from the playground, and the master ran in from 
the road to see who was being murdered. Of 
course, I said fair and square at once what I 
had done, and why; then I showed the master 
the flies, some crushed and some crawling about 
helpless, and I showed him the wings on the win¬ 
dow-sill. I never saw him so angry before; but 
as Bill was still howling and whining, like the 
coward that he was, he did not give him any more 
punishment of that kind, but set him up on a 
stool for the rest of the afternoon, and said that 
he should not go out to play for that week. 
Then he talked to all the boys very seriously 
about cruelty, and said how hard-hearted and 
cowardly it was to hurt the weak and the help¬ 
less; but what stuck in my mind was this: he 
said that cruelty was the Devil’s own trademark, 
and if we saw anyone who took pleasure in 
cruelty we might know whom he belonged to, for 
the Devil was a murderer from the beginning, 
and a tormentor to the end. On the other hand, 
where we saw people who loved their neighbors, 
and were kind to man and beast, we might know 
that was God’s mark, for 'God is Love.’ ” 

“Your master never taught a truer thing,” 
said John; “there is no religion without love, and 
people may talk as much as they like about their 
religion,, but if it does not teach them to be good 
and kind to man and beast it is all a sham —all 
a sham, James, and it won’t stand when things 
come to be turned inside out, and put down for 
what they are.” 




One morning early in December John had 
just led me into my box after my daily exercise, 
and was strapping my cloth on, and James was 
coming in from the corn chamber with some oats, 
when the master came into the stable; he looked 
rather serious, and held an open letter in his hand. 
John fastened the door of my box, touched his 
cap, and waited for orders. 

“Good-morning, John,” said the master; “I 
want to know if you have any complaint to make 
of James?” 




“Complaint, sir? No, sir.” 

“Is he industrious at his work and respect¬ 
ful to you?” 

“Yes, sir, always.” 

“He never slights his work when your back 
is turned?” 

“Never, sir.’ ? 

“That’s well; but I must put another question: 
have you no reason to suspect, when he takes 
the horses to exercise them, or to take a message, 
63 





66 


BLACK BEAUTY 



that he stops about, talking to his acquaintances, 
or goes into houses where he has no business, 
leaving the horses outside?” 

“No, sir, certainly not; and if anybody’"has 
been saying that about James I don’t believe it, 
and I don’t mean to believe it unless I have it 
fairly proved before witnesses; it’s not for me 
to say who has been trying to take away James’ 
character, but I will say this, sir, that a steadier, 
pleasanter, honester, smarter young fellow I 
never had in this stable. I can trust his word 
and I can trust his work; he is gentle and clever 
with the horses, and I would rather have them in 
charge with him than with half the young fellows 
I know of in laced hats and liveries; and who¬ 
ever wants a character of James Howard,” said 
John, with a decided jerk of his head, “let them 
come to John Manly.” 

The master stood all this time grave and 
attentive, but as John finished his speech a broad 
smile spread over his face, and, looking kindly 
across at James, who all this time stood still at 
the door, he said, “James, my lad, set down the 
oats and come here; I am very glad to find that 
John’s opinion of your character agrees so ex¬ 
actly with my own. John is a cautious man,” 
he said, with a droll smile, “and it is not always 
easy to get his opinion about people, so I thought 
if I beat the bush on this side the birds would 
fly out, and I should learn what I wanted to 
know; so now we will come to business. I have a 
letter from my brother-in-law. Sir Clifford Williams. 
He wants me to find him a trustworthy young 










BLACK BEAUTY 


67 


groom, about twenty, who knows his business. 
His old coachman, who has lived with him thirty 
years, is getting feeble, and he wants a man to 
work with him and get into his ways who would 
be able, when the old man is pensioned off, to step 
into his place. He would have eighteen shillings 
a week at first, a stable suit, a driving suit, a 
bedroom over the coach-house, and a boy under 
him. Sir Clifford is a good master, and if you 
could get the place it would be a good start for 
you. I don’t want to part with you, and if you 
left us I know John would lose his right hand.” 

“That I should, sir,” said John, “but I would 
not stand in his light for the world.” 

“How old are you, James?” said his master. 

“Nineteen next May, sir.” 

“That’s young; what do you think, John?” 

“Well, sir, it is young; but he is as steady as 
a man and is strong and well grown, and though 
he has not had much experience in driving, has 
a light, firm hand and a quick eye, and he is very 
careful, and I am quite sure no horse of his will 
be ruined for want of having his feet and shoes 
looked after.” 

“Your word will go the furthest, John,” said 
the master, “for Sir Clifford adds in a postscript, 
‘If I could find a man trained by your John, I 
should like him better than any other;’ so James, 
lad, think it over, talk to your mother at dinner¬ 
time, and then let me know what you wish.” 

In a few days after this conversation it was 
fully settled that James should go. to Clifford 
Hail in a month or six weeks, as it suited his 
















68 


BLACK BEAUTY 



master, and in the meantime he was to get all 
the practice in driving that could be given to 
him. I never knew the carriage to go out so often 
before; when the mistress did not go out the mas¬ 
ter drove himself in the two-wheeled chaise; but 
now, whether it was master or the young ladies, 
or only an errand, Ginger and I were put in the 
carriage and James drove us. At the first John 
rode with him on the box, telling him this and 
that, and after that James drove alone. 

Then it was wonderful what a number of 
places the master would go to in the city on 
Saturday, and what queer streets we were driven 
through. He was sure to go to the railway sta¬ 
tion just as the train was coming in, and cabs 
and carriages, carts and omnibuses were all 
trying to get over the bridge together; that 
bridge wanted good horses and good drivers 
when the railway bell was ringing, for it was 
narrow, and there was a very sharp turn up to 
the station, where it would not have been at all 
difficult for people to run into each other if 
they did not look sharp and keep their wits about 
them. 




BLACK BEAUTY 69 

CHAPTER XV. 

THE OLD HOSTLER. 

After this it was decided by my master and 
mistress to pay a visit to some friends who lived 
about forty-six miles from our home, and James 
was to drive them. The first day we traveled 
thirty-two miles. There were some long, heavy 
hills, but James drove so carefully and thought¬ 
fully that we were not at all harassed. He never 
forgot to put on the brake as we went downhill, 
nor to take it off at the right place. He kept 
our feet on the smoothest part of the road, and 
if the uphill was very long, he set the carriage 
wheels a little across the road, so as not to run 
back, and gave us a breathing. All these little 
things help a horse very much, 'particularly if 
he gets kind words Into the bargain. 

We stopped once or twice on the road, and just 
as the sun was going down we reached the town 
where we were to spend the night. We stopped 
at the principal hotel, which was in the market¬ 
place. It was a very large one. We drove under 
an archway into a long yard, at the further end 
of which were the stables and coach-houses. Two 
hostlers came to take us out. The head hostler 
was a pleasant, active little man, with a crooked 
leg and a yellow striped waistcoat. I never saw 
a man unbuckle harness so quickly as he did, and 
with a pat and a good word he led me to a long 
stable, with six or eight stalls in it and two or 
three horses. The other man brought Ginger. 

I never was cleaned so lightly and quickly as 



70 


BLACK BEAUTY 



by that old man. When he had done, Janies 
stepped up and felt me over, as if he thought 
I could not be thoroughly done, but he found 
my coat as clean and smooth as silk. 

“Well,” he said, “I thought I was pretty quick, 
and our John quicker still, but you do beat all 
I ever saw for being quick and thorough at the 
same time.” 

“Practice makes perfect,” said the crooked 
little hostler, *‘and ’twould be a pity if it didn’t; 
forty years’ practice, and not perfect! ha, ha! 
that would be a pity; and, as to being quick, 
why, bless you! that is only a matter of habit; 
if you get into the habit of being quick, it is just 
as easy as being slow; easier, I should say; in fact, 
it don’t agree with my health to be hulking about 
over a job twice as long as it need take. Bless 
you! I couldn’t whistle if I crawled over my work 
as some folks do! You see, I have been about 
horses ever since I was twelve years old, in hunt¬ 
ing stables and racing stables; and being small, 
ye see, I was jockey for several years; but at the 
Goodwood, ye see, the turf was very slippery 
and my poor Larkspur got a fall, and I broke my 
knee, and so, of course, I was of no more use 
there. But I could not live without horses, of 
course I couldn’t, so I took to the hotels. And 
I can tell ye it is a downright pleasure to handle 
an animal like this, well-bred, well-mannered, 
well-cared for; bless ye! I can tell how a horse is 
treated. Give me the handling of a horse for twenty 
minutes, and I’ll tell you what sort of a groom he 
has had. Look at this one, pleasant, quiet, turns 



BLACK BEAUTY 


71 



about just as you want him, holds up his feet 
to be cleaned out, or anything else you please 
to wish; then you’ll find another fidgety, fretty, 
won’t move the right way, or starts across the 
stall, tosses up his head as soon as you come 
near him, lays his ears, and seems afraid of you, 
or else squares about at you with his heels. Poor 
things! I know what sort of treatment they have 
had. If they are timid, it makes them start 
or shy; if they are high-mettled, it makes them 
vicious or dangerous; their tempers are mostly 
made when they are young. Bless you! they are 
like children; train ’em up in the way they should 
go, as the good book says, and when they are old 
they will not deport from it, if they have a chance, 
that is.’’ 

“I like to hear you talk,” said James; “that’s 
the way we lay it down at home, at our master’s.” 

“Who is your master, young man? if it be a 
proper question. I judge he is a good one from 
what I see.” 

“He is Squire Gordon, of Birtwick Park, the 
other side the Beacon hills,” said James. 

*‘Ah! so, so; I have heard tell of him; fine judge 
of horses, ain’t he?—the best rider in the country?” 

“I believe he is,” said James, “but he rides 
very little now, since the poor young master was 
killed.” 

“Ah! poor gentleman; I read all about it in the 
paper at the time; a fine horse killed, too, wasn’t 
there?” 

“Yes,” said James, “he was a splendid creature, 

brother to this one, and just like him.” 

6 













72 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“Pity! pity!” said the old man; “ ’twas a bad 
place to leap, if I remember; a thin fence at top, 
a steep bank down to the stream, wasn’t it? 
No chance for a horse to see where he is going. 
Now, I am for bold riding as much as any man, 
but still there are some leaps that only a very 
knowing old huntsman has any right to take; 
a man’s life and a horse’s life are worth more than 
a fox’s tail; at least I should say they ought 
to be.” During this time the other man had 
finished Ginger and had brought our corn, and 
James and the old man left the stable together. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE FIRE. 

Later on in the evening a traveler’s horse was 
brought in by the second hostler, and while he was 
cleaning him a young man with a pipe in his 
mouth lounged into the stable to gossip. “I say, 
Towler,” said the hostler, “just run up the ladder 
into the loft and put some hay down into this 
horse’s rack, will you? only, lay down your pipe.” 

“All right,” said the other, and went up through 
the trap-door, and I heard him step across the 
floor overhead and put down the hay. James 
came in to look at us the last thing, and then 
the door was locked. 

I cannot say how long I had slept, nor what 
time in the night it was, but I woke up very 
uncomfortable, though I hardly knew why. I 




BLACK BEAUTY 


73 



got up; the air seemed all thick and choking. I 
heard Ginger coughing, and one of the other 
horses seemed very restless; it was quite 
dark, and I could see nothing, but the stable 
seemed full of smoke, and I hardly knew how to 
breathe. 

The trap-door had been left open, and I thought 
that was the place it came through. I listened, 
and heard a soft, rushing sort of noise, and a low 
crackling and snapping. I did not know what 
it was, but there was something in the sound 
so strange that it made me tremble all over. 
The other horses were now all awake; some were 
pulling at their halters, others were stamping. 

At last I heard steps outside, and the hostler 
who had put up the traveler’s horse burst into 
the stable with a lantern, and began to untie 
the horses and try to lead them out; but he 
seemed in such a hurry and so frightened him¬ 
self that he frightened me still more. The 
first horse would not go with him; he tried the 
second and third, and they, too, would not 
stir. He came to me next and tried to drag me 
out of the stall by force; of course that was 
no use. He tried us all by turns, and then left 
the stable. 

No doubt we were very foolish, but danger 
seemed to be all round, and there was nobody 
we knew to trust in, and all was strange and 
uncertain. The fresh air that had come in 
through the open door made it easier to breathe, 
but the rushing sound overhead grew louder, 
and as I looked upward, through the bars of 





74 


BLACK BEAUTY 



my empty rack, I saw a red light flickering on 
the wall. Then I heard a cry of “Fire!” out¬ 
side, and the old hostler quietly and quickly came 
in; he got one horse out, and went to another, 
but the flames were playing round the trap¬ 
door, and the roaring overhead was dreadful. 

The next thing I heard was James’ voice, 
quiet and cheery. “Come, my beauties, it is 
time for us to be off, so wake up and come along.” 
I stood nearest the door, so he came to me first, 
me as he came in. 

Beauty, on with your bridle, my 
we will soon be out of this smother.” It 
on in no time; then he took the scarf off his 
neck and tied it lightly over my eyes, and pat- 
and coaxing, he led me out of the stable, 
in the yard, he slipped the scarf off my eyes 
and shouted, “Here, somebody! take this horse 
while I go back for the other.” 

A tall, broad man took me, and James darted 
back in the stable. I set up a shrill whinny 
as I saw him go. Ginger told me afterwards 
that whinny was the best thing I could have 
done for her, for had she not heard me out¬ 
side she would never have had the courage to 
come out. 

There was much confusion in the yard, the 
being got out of other stables, and the 
carriages and gigs being pulled out of houses 
and sheds, lest the flames should spread further, 
the other side of the yard windows were 
up, and the people were shouting all 
sorts of things, but I kept my eye fixed on the 









I 





Patting and coaxing me, he led me out of the stable. 






































































































































76 


BLACK BEAUTY 





stable door, where the smoke poured out thick, 
and I could see flashes of red light; presently I 
heard above all the stir and din a loud, clear 
voice, which I knew was master’s: “James How¬ 
ard! James Howard! Are you there?” 

There was no answer, but I heard a crash of 
something falling in the stable, and the next 
moment I gave a loud, joyful neigh, for I saw 
James coming through the smoke leading Gin¬ 
ger with him; she was coughing violently, and 
he was not able to speak. 

“My brave lad!” said master, laying his hand 
on his shoulder, “are you hurt?” James shook 
his head, for he could not yet speak. “Ay,” 
said the big man who held me; “he is a brave 
lad, and no mistake.” 

“And now,” said master, “when you have 
got your breath, James, we’ll get out of this 
place as quickly as we can,” and we were moving 
toward the entry, when from the market-place 
there came a sound of galloping feet and loud, 
rumbling wheels. 

“ ’Tis the fire engine! the fire engine!” shouted 
two or three voices; “stand back, make way!” 
and clattering and thundering over the stones 
two horses dashed into the yard with the heavy 
engine behind them. The firemen leaped to 
the ground; there was no need to ask where the 
fire was—it was rolling up in a great blaze from 
the roof. 



We got out as fast as we could into the broad, 
quiet market-place; the stars were shining, and, 
















BLACK BEAUTY 


77 


except the noise behind us, all was still. Mas¬ 
ter led the way to a large hotel on the other 
side, and as soon as the hostler came he said, “James, 
I must now hasten to your mistress; I trust the 
horses _ entirely to you; order whatever you 
think is needed;” and with that he was gone. 
The master did not run, but I never saw mortal 
man walk so fast as he did that night. 

There was a dreadful sound before we got 
into our stalls; the shrieks of those poor horses 
left burning in the stable—it was very terrible! 
and made Ginger and me feel very badly. We 
were taken in and well done by. 

The next morning the master came to see 
how we were and to speak to James. I did 
not hear much, for the hostler was rubbing me 
down, but I could see that James looked very 
happy, and I thought the master was proud 
of him. Our mistress had been so much alarmed 
in the night that the journey was put off till 
the afternoon, so James had the morning on 
hand, and went first to the inn to see about our 
harness and the carriage, and then to hear more 
about the fire. When he came back, we heard 
him tell the hostler about it. At first no one 
could guess how the fire had been caused, but 
at last a man said he saw Dick Towler go into 
the stable with a pipe in his mouth, and when he 
came out he had not one, and went to the tap 
for another. Then the under hostler said he 
had asked Dick to go up the ladder to put down 
some hay, but told him to lay down his pipe 

first. Dick denied taking the pipe with him, 
6 


BLACK BEAUTY 



' 



78 


but no one believed him. I remember our John 
Manly’s rule, never to allow a pipe in the stable, 
and thought it ought to be the rule everywhere. 

James said the roof and floor had all fallen in, 
and that only the black walls were standing; 
the two poor horses that could not be got out 
were buried under the burnt rafters and tiles. 



CHAPTER XVII. 


JOHN MANLY’S TALK. 



The rest of our journey was very easy, and 
a little after sunset we reached the house of 
my master’s friend. We were taken into a clean 
snug stable; there was a kind coachman, who 
made us comfortable, and who seemed to think 
good deal of James when he heard about the 

is one thing quite clear, young man,” 
; “your horses know whom they can trust; 
of the hardest things in the world to 
of a stable when there is either 








BLACK BEAUTY 79 

fire or flood. I don’t know why they won’t come 
out, but they won’t—not one in twenty.” 

We stopped two or three days at this place 
and then returned home. All went well on the 
journey; we were glad to be in our own stable 
again, and John was equally glad to see us. 
Before he and James left us for the night James 
said,. "X wonder who is coming in my place.” 

''Little Joe Green at the Lodge,” said John. 

"Little Joe Green! why, he’s a child!” 

"He is fourteen and a half,” said John. 

"But he is such a little chap!” 

"Yes, he is small, but he is quick, and will¬ 
ing, and kind-hearted, too, and then he wishes 
very much to come, and his father would like 
it; and I know the master would like to give 
him the chance. He said if I thought he would 
not do he would look out for a bigger boy; but 
I said I was quite agreeable to try him for six 
weeks.” 

"Six weeks?” said James; "why, it will be six 
months before he can be of much use! It will 
make you a deal of work, John.” 

"Well,” said John, with a laugh, "work and 
I are very good friends; I never was afraid of 
work yet.” 

"You are a very good man,” said James; "I 
wish I may ever be like you.” 

"I don’t often speak of myself,” said John, 
"but as you are going away from us out into 
the world, to shift for yourself, I’ll just tell you 
how I look on these things. I was just as old as 
Joseph when my father and mother died of the 







80 


BLACK BEAUTY 


fever, within ten days of each other, and left 
me and my crippled sister Nelly alone in the 
world, without a relation that we could look to 
for help. I was a farmer’s boy, not earning 
enough to keep myself, much less both of us, 
and she must have gone to the workhouse but 
for our mistress (Nelly calls her her angel, and 
she has good right to do so). She went and 
hired a room for her with old Widow Mallet, 
and she gave her knitting and needlework when 
she was able to do it, and when she was ill she 
sent her dinners and many nice, comfortable things, 
and was like a mother to her. Then the mas¬ 
ter, he took me into the stable under old Nor¬ 
man, the coachman that was, then. I had 
my food at the house and my bed in the loft, 
and a suit of clothes, and three shillings a week, 
so that I could help Nelly. Then there was 
Norman; he might have turned round and said 
at his age he could not be troubled with a raw 
boy from the plow-tail, but he was like a father 
to me, and took no end of pains with me. When 
the old man died some years after, I stepped 
into his place, and now of course I have top 
wages, and can lay by for a rainy day or a sunny 
day, as it may happen, and Nelly is as happy as 
a bird. So you see, James, I am not the man 
that should turn up his nose at a little boy, and 
vex a good, kind master. No, no! I shall miss 
you very much, James, but we shall pull through, 
and there’s nothing like doing a kindness when 
’tis put in your way, and I am glad I can do it.” 

“Then,” said James, “you don’t hold with 


BLACK BEAUTY 81 

that saying, ^Everybody look after himself, and 
take care of number one.’ ” 

“No, indeed,” said John; “where should I and 
Nelly have been if master and mistress and 
old Norman had only taken care of number one? 
Why, she in the workhouse and I hoeing turnips! 
Where would Black Beauty and Ginger have been 
if you had only thought of number one? Why, 
roasted to death! No, Jim, no! that is a sel¬ 
fish, heathenish saying, whoever uses it; and any 
man who thinks he has nothing to do but take 
care of number one, _why, it’s a pity but what 
he had been drowned like a puppy or kitten 
before he got his eyes open—that’s what I think,” 
said John, with a very decided jerk of his head. 

James laughed at this; but there was a thick¬ 
ness in his voice when he said, “You have been 
my best friend except my mother; I hope you 
won’t forget me.” 

“No, lad, no!” said John, “and if ever I can 
do you a good turn, I hope you won’t forget me.” 

The next day Joe came to the stables to learn 
all he could before James left. He learned to 
sweep the stable, to bring in the straw and hay; 
he began to clean the harness, and helped to 
wash the carriage. As he was quite too short 
to do anything in the way of grooming Ginger 
and me, James taught him upon Merrylegs, for 
he was to have full charge of him, under John. 
He 1 was a^'nice bright little fellow, and always 
came*whistling to his work. 

Merrylegs was a good deal put out at being 
“mauled about,” as he said, “by a boy who 



82 


BLACK BEAUTY 



knew nothing”; but toward the end of the sec¬ 
ond week he told me confidentially that he thought 
the boy would turn out well. 

At last the day came when James had to leave 
us; cheerful as he always was, he looked quite 
down-hearted that morning. “You see,” he said 
to John, “I am leaving a great deal behind; my 
mother, and Betsy, and you, and a good mas¬ 
ter and mistress, and then the horses, and my 
old Merrylegs. At the new place there will 
not be a soul that I shall know. If it were 
not that I shall get a higher place, and be able 
to help my mother better, I don’t think I should 
have madeup my mind to it; it is areal pinch, John.” 

“Ay, James, lad, so it is; but I should not think 
much of you if you could leave your home for 
the first time and not feel it. Cheer up, you’ll 
make friends there, and if you get on well, as I 
am sure you will, it will be a fine thing for your 
mother, and she will be proud enough that 
you have got into such a good place as that.” 

So John cheered him up, but everyone was 
sorry to lose James. As for Merrylegs, he pined 
after him for several days, and went quite off 
his appetite. So John took him out several 
mornings with a leading rein, when he exercised 
me, and, trotting and galloping by my side, 
got up the little fellow’s spirits, and he was 
soon all right. 

Joe’s father would often come in and give 
a little help, as he understood the work, and 
Joe took a great deal of pains to learn, and John 
was quite encouraged about him. 











BLACK BEAUTY 88 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

GOING FOR THE DOCTOR. 

One night, a few days after James had left, 
I had eaten my hay and was lying down in my 
straw fast asleep, when I was suddenly aroused 
by the stable-bell ringing very loud. I heard 
the door of John's house open, and his feet run¬ 
ning up to the Hall. He was back again in no 
time; he unlocked the stable door, and came 
in, calling out, “Wake up, Beauty! you must 
go well now, if ever you did”; and almost before 
I could think he had got the saddle on my back 
and the bridle on my head. He just ran around 
for his coat, and then took me at a quick trot 
up to the Hall door. The Squire stood there, 
with a lamp in his hand. “Now, John,” he said, 
“ride for your life—that is, for your mistress’ 
life; there is not a moment to lose. Give this 
note to Dr. White; give your horse a rest at the 
inn, and be back as soon as you can.” 

John said, “Yes, sir,” and was on my back in 
a minute. The gardener who lived at the lodge 
had heard the bell ring, and was ready with the 
gate open, and away we went through the park, 
and through the village, and down the hill till 
we came to the toll-gate. John called very loud 
and thumped upon the door; the man was soon 
out and flung open the gate. 

“Now,” said John, “do you keep the gate open 
for the doctor; here’s the money,” and off we 
went again. 

There was before us a long piece of level road 






84 


BLACK BEAUTY 



by the river-side. John said to me, “Now, Beauty, 
do your best,” and so I did. I wanted no whip 
nor spur, and for two miles I galloped as fast as 
I could lay my feet to the ground. I don’t be¬ 
lieve that my old grandfather, who won the race 
at Newmarket, could have gone faster. When 
we came to the bridge, John pulled me up a little 
and patted my neck. “Well done. Beauty! good 
old fellow,” he said. He would have let me go 
slower, but my spirit was up, and I was off again 
as fast as before. The air was frosty, the moon 
was bright; it was very pleasant. We came 
through a village, then through a dark wood, 
then uphill, then downhill, till after an eight 
miles’ run we came to the town, through the 
streets and into the market-place. It was all 
quite still except the clatter of my feet on the 
stones—everybody was asleep. The church clock 
struck three as we drew up at Dr. White’s door. 
John rang the bell twice, and then knocked at 
the door like thunder. A window was thrown 
up, and Dr. White put his head out and said, 
“What do you want?’’ 

*’Mrs. Gordon is very ill, sir; master wants 
you to come at once; he thinks she will die if 
you cannot get there. Here is a note.” 

“Wait,” he said, “I will come.” 

He shut the window and was soon at the 
door. “The worst of it is,” he said, “my horse 
has been out all day and is quite done up; my 
son has just taken the other. What is to be 
done? Can I have your horse?” 

“He has come at a gallop nearly all the way. 



BLACK BEAUTY 


85 


sir, and I was to give him a rest here; but I think 
my master would not be against it, if you think 
fit, sir.” _ 

“All right,” he said; “I will soon be ready.” 

John stood by me and stroked my neck; I 
was very hot. The doctor came out with his 
riding-whip. 

“You need not take that, sir,” said John; 
“Black Beauty will go till he drops. Take care 
of him, sir, if you can; I should not like any harm 
to come to him.” 

“No, no, John,” said the doctor, “I hope not,” 
and in a minute we had left John far behind. 

I will not tell about our way back. The 
doctor was a heavier man than John, and not so 
good a rider; however, I did my very best. The 
man at the toll-gate had it open. When we came 
to the hill, the doctor drew me up. “Now, my 
good fellow,” he said, “take some breath.” I was 
glad he did, for I was nearly spent, but that 
breathing helped me on, and soon we were in 
the park. Joe was at the lodge gate; my master 
was at the Hall door, for he had heard us coming. 
He spoke not a word; the doctor went into the 
house with him, and Joe led me to the stable. 
I was glad to get home; my legs shook under me, 
and I could only stand and pant. I had not 
a diry hair on my body, the water ran down my 
legs, and I steamed all over—Joe used to say, 
like a pot on the fire. Poor Joe! he was young 
and small, and as yet he knew very little, and 
his father, who would have helped him, had been 
sent to the next village; but I am sure he did 




BLACK BEAUTY 


the very best he knew. He rubbed my legs 
and my chest, but he did not put my warm cloth 
on me; he thought I was so hot I should not like 
it. Then he gave me a pailful of water to drink; 
it was cold and very good, and I drank it all; 
then he gave me some hay and some corn, and, 
thinking he had done right, he went away. Soon 
I began to shake and tremble, and turned deadly 
cold; my legs ached, my loins ached, and my chest 
ached, and I felt sore all over. Oh! how I wished 
for my warm, thick cloth as I stood and trem¬ 
bled. I wished for John, but he had eight miles 
to walk, so I lay down in my straw and tried 
to go to sleep. After a long while I heard him 
at the door; I gave a low moan, for I was in great 
pain. He was at my side in a moment, stooping 
down by me. I could not tell him how I felt, 
but he seemed to know it all; he covered me 
with two or three warm cloths, and then ran 
to the house for some hot water; he made me 
some warm gruel, which I drank, and then I 
think I went to sleep. 

John seemed to be very much put out. I 
him say to himself over and ‘ over again, 
'Stupid boy! stupid boy! no cloth put on, and 
say the water was cold, too; boys are no 
;” but Joe was a good boy, after all. 
was now very ill; a strong inflammation 
attacked my lungs, and I could not draw 
without pain. John nursed me night 
e would get up two or three times 
come to me. My master, too, 
see me. “My poor Beauty,” he 


BLACK BEAUTY 87 

said one day, “my good horse, you saved your 
mistress’s life, Beauty; yes, you saved her life.” 
I was very glad to hear that, for it seems the 

( doctor had said if we had been a little later it 
would have been too date. John told my mas¬ 
ter he never saw a horse go so fast in his life. 
It seemed as if the horse knew what was the 
matter. Of course I did, though John thought 
not; at least I knew as much as this—that John 
and I must go at the top of our speed, and that 
it was for the sake of the mistress. 




CHAPTER XIX. 

ONLY IGNORANCE. 

I do not know how long I was ill. Mr. Bond, 
the horse-doctor, came every day. One day he 
bled me; John held a pail for the blood. I felt 
very faint after it, and thought I should die, and 
I believe they all thought so, too. 

Ginger and Merrylegs had been moved into 

7 












88 


BLACK BEAUTY 


the other stables, so that I might be quiet, for 
the fever had made me very quick of hearing; any 
little noise seemed quite loud, and I could tell 
everyone’s footstep going to and from the house. 
I knew all that was going on. One night John 
had to give me a draft; Thomas Green came in 
to help him. After I had taken it and John 
had made me as comfortable as he could, he said 
he should stay half an hour to see how the medi¬ 
cine settled. Thomas said he would stay with 
him, so they went and sat down on a bench 
that had been brought into Merrylegs’ stall, 
and put down the lantern at their feet, that I 
might not be disturbed with the light. 

For a while both men sat silent, and then 
Tom Green said in a low voice— 

“I wish, John, you’d say a bit of a kind word 
to Joe. The boy is quite broken-hearted; he 
can’t eat his meals, and he can’t smile. He 
says he knows it was all his fault, though he is 
sure he did the best he knew, and he says, if 
Beauty dies, no one will ever speak to him again. 
It goes to my heart to hear him. I think you 
might give him just a word; he is not a bad 
boy.” 

After a short pause, John said slowly, ‘‘You 
must not be too hard upon me, Tom. I know 
he meant no harm; I never said he did; I know 
he is not a bad boy. But you see I am sore 
myself; that horse is the pride of my heart, to say 
nothing of his being such a favorite with the 
master and mistress; and to think that his life 
may be flung away in this manner is more than 


89 


BLACK BEAUTY 

I can bear. But if you think I am hard on the 
boy, I will try to give him a good word to-mor¬ 
row—that is, if Beauty is better.” 

“Well, John, thank you. I knew you did not 
wish to be too hard, and I am glad you see it 
was only ignorance.” 

John’s voice almost startled me as he an¬ 
swered, “Only ignorance! only ignorance! how can 
you talk about only ignorance? Don’t you know 
that it is the worst thing in the world, next to wicked¬ 
ness? And which does the most mischief Heaven 
only knows. If people can say, ‘Oh! I did not 
know, I did not mean any harm,’ they think it 
is all right. I suppose Martha Mulwash did not 
mean to kill that baby when she dosed it with 
soothing syrup; but she did kill it; and she was 
tried for manslaughter.” 

“And served her right, too,” said Tom. “A 
woman should not undertake to nurse a tender 
little child without knowing what is good and 
what is bad for it.” 

“Bill Starkey,” continued John, “did not mean 
to frighten his brother into fits when he dressed 
up like a ghost and ran after him in the moon¬ 
light; but he did; and that bright, handsome 
little fellow, that might have been the pride of 
any mother’s heart, is just no better than an idiot, 
and never will be, if he live to be eighty years 
old. You were a good deal cut up yourself, 
Tom, two weeks ago, when those young ladies 
left your hothouse door open, with a frosty east 
wind blowing right in; you said it killed a good 
many of your plants.” 



90 BLACK BEAUTY 



*-A good many!” said Tom; “there was not one 
of the tender cuttings that was not nipped off. 
I shall have to strike all over again, and the 
worst of it is that I don't know where to go 
to get fresh ones. I was nearly mad when I 
came in and saw what was done.” 

“And yet,” said John, “I am sure the young 
ladies did not mean it; it was only ignorance.” 

I heard no more of this conversation, for the 
medicine did well and sent me to sleep, and in 
the morning I felt much better; but I often thought 
of John’s words when I came to know more 
of the world. 



CHAPTER XX. 

JOE GREEN. 

Joe Green went on very well; he learned quick¬ 
ly, and was so attentive and careful that John 
began to trust him in many things; but, as I have 
said, he was small of his age, and it was sel¬ 
dom that he was allowed to exercise either Ginger 
or me; but it so happened one morning that John 
was out with Justice in the luggage cart, and the 
master wanted a note to be taken immediately 
to a gentleman’s house, about three miles dis¬ 
tant, and sent his orders for Joe to saddle me and 
take it; adding the caution that he was to ride 
steadily. 

The note was delivered, and we were quietly 
returning when we came to the brickfield. Here 
we saw a cart heavily laden with bricks; the 
wheels had stuck fast in the stiff mud of some 


V8V 


1 * ** 








BLACK BEAUTY 


91 



deep ruts, and the carter was shouting and flog¬ 
ging the two horses unmercifully. Joe pulled up. 
It was a sad sight. There were the two horses 
straining and struggling with all their might 
to drag the cart out, but they could not move 
it; the_ sweat streamed from their legs and flanks, 
their sides heaved, and every muscle was strained, 
while the man, fiercely pulling at the head of 
the fore horse, swore and lashed most brutally. 

“Hold hard!” said Joe; “don’t go on flog¬ 
ging the horses like that; the wheels are so stuck 
that they cannot move the cart.” The man 
took no heed, but went on lashing. 

“Stop! pray stop!” said Joe. “I’ll help you 
lighten the cart; they can’t move it now.” 

“Mind your own business, you impudent young 
rascal, and I’ll mind mine!” The man was in 
a towering passion and the worse for drink, and 
laid on the whip again. Joe turned my head, 
and the next moment we were going at a round 
gallop toward the house of the master brick- 
maker. I cannot say if John would have ap¬ 
proved of our pace, but Joe and I were both of 
one mind, and so angry that we could not have 
gone slower. 

The house stood close by the roadside. Joe 
knocked at the door, and shouted, “Halloo! Is 
Mr. Clay at home?” The door was opened, 
and Mr. Clay himself came out “Halloo, young 
man! You seem in a hurry, any orders from 
the Squire this morning?” 

“No, Mr. Clay, but there’s a fellow in your 
brickyard flogging two horses to death. I told 





92 


BLACK BEAUTY 


him to stop and he wouldn’t; I said I’d help 
him to lighten the cart, and he wouldn’t; so I 
have come to tell you. Pray, sir, go.” Joe’s 
voice shook with excitement. 

“Thank ye, my lad,” said the man, running 
in for his hat; then pausing. “Will you give 
evidence of what you saw if I bring the fellow 
up before a magistrate?” 

“That I will,” said Joe, “and glad, too.” The 
man was gone, and we were on our way home 
at a smart trot. 

“Why, what’s the matter with you, Joe? 
You look angry all over,” said John, as the boy 
flung himself from the saddle. “I am angry 
all over, I can tell you,” said the boy, and 
then in hurried, excited words he told all that 
had happened. Joe was usually such a quiet, 
gentle little fellow that it was wonderful to see 
him so roused. 

“Right, Joe! you did right, my boy, whether 
the fellow gets a summons or not. Many folks 
would have ridden by and said ’twas not their 
business to interfere. Now, I say that with 
cruelty and oppression it is everybody’s business 
to interfere when they see it; you did right, my 
boy.” 

Joe was quite calm by this time, and proud 
that John approved of him, and he cleaned 
out my feet, and rubbed me down with a firmer 
hand than usual. 

They were just going home to dinner when 
the footman came down to the stable to say 
that Joe was wanted directly in master’s private 







BLACK BEAUTY 


93 


room; there was a man brought up tor ill-using 
horses, and Joe's evidence was wanted. The 
boy flushed up to his forehead, and his eyes 
sparkled. “They shall have it,” said he. 

“Put yourself a bit straight,” said John. 
Joe gave a pull at his necktie and a twitch at his 
jacket, and was off in a moment. Our master 
being one of the county magistrates, cases were 
often brought to him to settle, or say what 
should be done. In the stable we heard no more 
for some time, as it was the men’s dinner hour, 
but when Joe came next into the stable I saw he 
was in high spirits; he gave me a good-natured 
slap, and said, “We won’t see such things done, 
will we, old fellow?” We heard afterwards that 
he had given his evidence so clearly, and the horses 
were in such an exhausted state, bearing marks 
of such brutal usage, that the carter was com¬ 
mitted to take his trial, and might possibly be 
sentenced to two or three months in prison. 

It was wonderful what a change had come 
over Joe. John laughed, and said he had grown 
an inch taller in that week, and I believe he had. 
He was just as kind and gentle as before, but 
there was more purpose and determination in 
all that he did—as if he had jumped at once 
from a boy into a man. j 









CHAPTER XXI. 

THE PARTING. 

I had now lived in this happy place three 
years, but sad changes were about to come 
over us. We heard from time to time that our 
mistress was ill. The doctor was often at the 
house and the master looked grave and anxious. 
Then we heard that she must leave her home 
at once, and go to a warm country for two or 
three years. The news fell upon the household 
like the tolling of a death-bell. Everybody 
was sorry; but the master began to make arrange¬ 
ments for breaking up his establishment and 
leaving England. We used to hear it talked 
about in our stable; indeed, nothing else was 
talked about. 

John went about his work, silent and sad, 
and Joe scarcely whistled. There was a great 
deal of coming and going. Ginger and I had 
full work. 

The first of the party who went were Miss 
Jessie and Flora with their governess. They 
came to bid us good-by. They hugged poor 
Merrylegs like an old friend, and so indeed he 
was. Then we heard what had been arranged for 

94 







BLACK BEAUTY 


195 


us. Master had sold Ginger and me to his old 

friend, the Earl of W-, for he thought we 

should have a good place there. Merrylegs 
he had given to the Vicar, who was wanting a 
pony for Mrs. Bloomfield, but it was on the 
condition that he should never be sold, and that 
when he was past work he should be shot and buried. 

Joe was engaged to take care of him and to 
help in the house, so I thought that Merrylegs 
was well off. John had the offer of several 
good places, but he said he should wait a little 
and look round. The evening before they left, 
the master came into the stable to give some 
direction, and to give his horses the last pat. 
He seemed very low-spirited; I knew that by 
his voice. I believe we horses can tell more by 
the voice than many men can. 

“Have you decided what to do, John?” he 
said. “I find you have not accepted either of 
those offers.” 

“No, sir; I have made up my mind that if 
I could get a situation with some first-rate colt- 
breaker and horse-trainer, it would be the right 
thing for me. Many young animals are fright¬ 
ened and spoiled by wrong treatment, which 
need not be if the right man took them in hand. 
I always get on well with horses, and if I could 
help some of them to a fair start I should feel 
as if I was doing some good. What do you think 
of it, sir?” 

“I don’t know a man anywhere,” said master, 
“that I should think so suitable for it as your¬ 
self. You understand horses, and they under- 










96 


BLACK BEAUTY 





stand you, and in time you might set up for your¬ 
self; I think you could not do better. If in any 
way I can help you, write to me. I shall speak 
to my agent, and leave your character with 
him.” 

Master gave John the address, and then he 
thanked him for his long and faithful service, 
but that was too much for John. “Pray, don’t, 
sir, I can’t bear it; you and my dear mistress 
have done so much for me that I could never 
repay it. But we shall never forget you, sir, 
and, please God, we may some day see mistress 
back again like herself; we must keep up hope, 
sir.” Master gave John his hand, but he did 
not speak, and they both left the stable. 

The last sad day had come; the footman and 
the heavy luggage had gone off the day before, 
and there were only master and mistress and 
her maid. Ginger and I brought the carriage 
up to the Hall door for the last time. The serv¬ 
ants brought out cushions and rugs and many 
other things, and when all were arranged, mas¬ 
ter came down the steps carrying the mistress 
in his arms (I was on the side next the house, and 
could see all that went on); he placed her carefully 
in the carriage, while the house-servants stood 
round crying. 

“Good-by again,” he said; “we shall not for¬ 
get any of you,” and he got in. “Drive on, John.” 

Joe jumped up, and we trotted slowly through 
the park and through the village, where the 
people were standing at their doors to have a 
last look and to say, “God bless them.” 





BLACK BEAUTY 97 

When we reached the railway station, I think 
mistress walked from the carriage to the wait¬ 
ing-room. I heard her say in her own sweet 
voice, “Good-by, John. God bless you.” I felt 
the rein twitch, but John made no answer; per¬ 
haps he could not speak. As soon as Joe had 
taken the things out of the carriage, John called 
him to stand by the horses while he went on the 
platform. Poor Joe! he stood close up to our 
heads to hide his tears. Very soon the train came 
puffing up into the station; then two or three 
minutes and the doors were slammed to, the 
guard whistled, and the train glided away, leav¬ 
ing behind it only clouds of white smoke and 
some very heavy hearts. 

When it was quite out of sight, John came 
back. 

• “We shall never see her again,” he said— 
“never.” He took the reins, mounted the box, 
and with Joe drove slowly home; but it was 
not our home now. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

EARLSHALL. 



The next morning after breakfast, Joe put 
Merrylegs into the mistress’ low chaise to take 
him to the vicarage; he came first and said good- 
by to us, and Merrylegs neighed to us from the 
yard. Then John put the saddle on Ginger and 
the leading-rein on me, and rode us across the 
country about fifteen miles to Earlshall Park, 




98 


BLACK BEAUTY 





very fine house and a great deal of stabling. 
We went into the yard through a stone gateway, 
and John asked for Mr. York. It was some 
time before he came. He was a fine-looking, 
middle-aged man, and his voice said at once that 
he expected to be obeyed. He was very friendly 
and polite to John, and after giving us a slight 
look he called a groom to take us to our boxes, 
and invited John to take some refreshments. 

We were taken to a light, airy stable, and placed 
in boxes adjoining each other, where we were 
rubbed down and fed. In about half an hour 
John and Mr. York, who was to be our new 
coachman, came in to see us. 

“Now, Mr. Manly,” he said, after carefully 
looking at us both, “I can see no fault in these 
horses, but we all know that horses have their 
peculiarities as well as men, and that sometimes 
they need different treatment. I should like to 
know if there is anything particular in either of 
these that you would like to mention.” 

“Well,” said John, “I don’t believe there is 
a better pair of horses in the country, and right 
grieved I am to part with them, but they are 
not alike. The black one has the most perfect 
temper I ever knew; I suppose he has never 
known a hard word or blow since he was foaled; 
and all his pleasure seems to be to do what 
you wish; but the chestnut, I fancy, must have 
had bad treatment; we heard as much from the 
dealer. She came to us snappish and suspicious, 
but when she found what sort of place ours was, 
it all went off by degrees; for three years I have 












BLACK BEAUTY 99 

never seen the smallest sign of temper, and if she 
is well treated there is not a better, more willing 
animal than she is. But she has naturally a 
more irritable constitution than the black horse; 
flies tease her more; anything wrong in the har¬ 
ness frets her more, and if she were ill-used 
or unfairly treated she would not be unlikely 
to give tit for tat. You know that many high- 
mettled horses will do so.” 

“Of course,” said York, “I quite understand; 
but you know it is not easy in stables like these 
to have all the grooms just what they should 
be. I do my best, and there I must leave it. 
Illfremember what you have said about the 
mare.” 

They were going out of the stable, when John 
stopped, and said, “I had better mention that 
we have never used the check-rein with either 
of them; the black horse never had one on, and 
the dealer said it was the gag-bit that spoiled 
the other’s temper.” 

“Well,” said York, “if they come here they 
must wear the check-rein. I prefer a loose rein 
myself, and his lordship is always very reasonable 
about horses; but my lady — that’s another thing; 
she will have style, and if her carriage-horses 
are not reined up tight she wouldn’t look at 
them. I always stand out against the gag-bit, 
and shall do so, but it mast be tight up when my 
lady rides!” 

“I am very sorry for it, very sorry,” said John; 
“but I must go now, or I shall lose the train.” 

He came round to each of us to pat and speak 








100 


BLACK BEAUTY 




to us for the last time; his voice sounded very- 
sad. I held my face close to him; that was all 
I could do to say good-by; and then he was gone, 
and I have never seen him since. 

The next day Lord W- came to look at 

us; he seemed pleased with our appearance. 
“I have great confidence in these horses,” he said 
“from the character my friend Mr. Gordon has 
given me of them. Of course they are not a match 
in color, but my idea is that they will do very 
well for the carriage while we are in the country. 
Before we go to London I must try to match 
Baron; the black horse, I believe, is perfect for 
riding.” 

York then told him what John had said about 
us. 

“Well,” said he, “you must keep an eye to 
the mare, and put the check-rein easy; I dare say 
they will do very well with a little humoring. 
I'll mention it to your lady.” 

In the afternoon we were harnessed and put 
in the carriage, and as the stable clock struck 
three we were led round to the front of the house. 
It was all very grand, and three orfour times as large 
as the old house at Birtwick, but not half so pleas¬ 
ant, if a horse may have an opinion. Two foot¬ 
men were standing ready, dressed in drab livery, 
with scarlet breeches and white stockings. Pres¬ 
ently we heard the rustling sound of silk as my lady 
came down the flight of stone steps. She stepped 
round to look at us; she was a tall, proud-look- 
ing woman, and did not seem pleased about 
something, but she said nothing, and got into 




BLACK BEAUTY 


101 


the carriage. This was the first time of wearing 
a check-rein, and I must say, though it cer¬ 
tainly was a nuisance not to be able to get my 
head down now and then, it did not pull my 
head higher than I was accustomed to carry it. 
I felt anxious about Ginger, but she seemed to 
be quiet and content. 

The next day at three o’clock we were again 
at the door, and the footmen as before; we heard 
the silk dress rustle, and the lady came down 
the steps, and in an imperious voice she said, 
“ York , you must put those horses 9 heads higher; 
they are not fit to be seen” 

York got down and said, very respectfully, 
“I beg your pardon, my lady, but these horses 
have not been reined up for three years, and my 
lord said it would be safer to bring them to it 
by degrees; but if your ladyship pleases, I can 
take them up a little more.” 

“Do so,” she said. 

York came round to our heads and shortened 
the rein himself, one hole, I think. Every little 
makes a difference, be it for better or worse, and 
that day we had a steep hill to go up. Then I 
began to understand what I had heard of. Of 
course I wanted to put my head forward and take 
the carriage up with a will, as we had been used 
to do; but no, I had to pull with my head up now, 
and that took all the spirit out of me , and the strain 
came on my back and legs. When, we came in, 
Ginger said to me, “Now you see what it is like; 
but this is not bad, and if it does not get much 
worse than this I shall say nothing about it, for 




102 BLACK BEAUTY 

we are very well treated here; but if they strain 
me up tight, why, let 'em look out! I can’t 
bear it, and I won’t.” 

Day by day, hole by hole, our bearing-reins 
were shortened, and instead of looking forward 
with pleasure to having my harness put on, as 
I used to do, I began to dread it. Ginger, too, 
seemed restless, though she said very little. At 
last I thought the worst was over; for several days 
there was no more shortening, and I determined 
to make the best of it and do my duty, though 
it was now a constant harass instead of a pleas¬ 
ure; but the worst was not yet come. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

A STRIKE FOR LIBERTY. 

One day my lady came down later than usual, 
and the silk rustled more than ever. 

“Drive to the Duchess of B-’s,” she said; 

and then, after a pause, “Are you never going to 
get those horses’ heads up, York? Raise them 







BLACK BEAUTY 


103 


at once, and let us have no more of this humoring 
and nonsense.” 

York came to me first, while the groom stood 
at Ginger’s head. He drew my head back and 
fixed the rein so tight that it was almost intoler¬ 
able; then he went to Ginger, who|was impatient¬ 
ly jerking her head up and down against the bit, 
as was her way now. She had a good idea of 
what was coming, and the moment York took 
the rein off the terret in order to shorten it she 
took her opportunity, and reared up so suddenly 
that York had his nose roughly hit and his hat 
knocked off; the groom was nearly thrown off his 
legs. At once they both flew to her head, but 
she was a match for them, and went on plunging, 
rearing, and kicking in a most desperate manner; 
at last she kicked right over the carriage-pole 
and fell down, after giving me a severe blow 
on my near quarter. There is no knowing what 
further mischief she might have done had not York 
promptly sat himself down flat on her head to 
prevent her struggling, at the same time call¬ 
ing out, “Unbuckle the black horse! Run for 
the winch and unscrew the carriage-pole! Cut 
the trace here, somebody, if you can’t unhitch 
it!” One of the footmen ran for the winch, and 
another brought a knife from the house. The 
groom soon set me free from Ginger and the 
carriage, and led me to my box. He just turned 
me in as I was, and ran back to York. I was 
much excited by what had happened, and if 
I had ever been used to kick or rear I am sure 
I should have done it then; but I never had, 













104 


BLACK BEAUTY 


and there I stood, angry, sore in my leg, my 
head still strained up to the terret on the saddle, 
and no power to get it down. I was very miser¬ 
able, and felt much inclined to kick the first 
person who came near me. 

Before long, however, Ginger was led in by 
two grooms, a good deal knocked about and 
bruised. York came with her and gave his 
orders, and then came back to look at me. In 
a moment he let down my head. 

“Confound these check-reins!” he said to him¬ 
self; -T thought we should have some mischief 
soon. Master will be sorely vexed. But here, 
if a woman’s husband can’t rule her, of course 
a servant can’t; so I wash my hands of it, and 
if she can’t get to the Duchess’ garden party 
I can’t help it.” 

York did not say this before the men; he al¬ 
ways spoke respectfully when they were by. 
Now he felt me all over, and soon found the place 
above my hock where I had been kicked. It 
was swelled and painful; he ordered it to be 
sponged with hot water, and then some lotion 
was put on. 

Lord W-was much put out when he learned 

what had happened; he blamed York for giving 
way to his mistress, to which he replied that 
in future he would much prefer to receive his or¬ 
ders only from his lordship; but I think nothing 
came of it, for things went on the same as before. 
I thought York might have stood up better for 
his horses, but perhaps I am no judge. 

Ginger was never put in the carriage again, 






BLACK BEAUTY 


105 


but when she was well of her bruises one of 

Lord W-’s younger sons said he should like 

to have her; he was sure she would make a good 
hunter. As for me, I was obliged still to go 
in the carriage, and had a fresh partner called 
Max; he had always been used to the tight rein. 
I asked him how it was he bore it. “Well,” he 
said, “I bear it because I must; but it is short¬ 
ening my life, and it will shorten yours, too, if 
you have to stick to it.” 

“Do you think,” I said, “that our masters 
know how bad it is for us?” 

“I can’t say,” he replied, “but the dealers 
and the horse-doctors know it very well. I 
was at a dealer’s once, who was training me and 
another horse to go as a pair; he was getting 
our heads up, as he said, a little higher and a 
little higher every day. A gentleman asked 
him why he did so. ‘Because,’ said he, ‘people 
won’t buy them unless we do. The London 
people want their horses to carry their heads 
high and to step high. Of course it is very bad 
for the horses, but then it is good for trade. The 
horses soon wear out, or get diseased, and they 
come for another pair.’ That,” said Max, “is 
what he said in my hearing, and you can judge 
for yourself.” 

What I suffered with that rein for four long 
months in my lady’s carriage would be hard to 
describe; but I am quite sure that, had it lasted 
much longer, either my health or my temper 
would have given way. Before that I never 
knew what it was to foam at the mouth, but now 


106 


BLACK BEAUTY 









the action of the sharp bit on my tongue and 
jaw, and the constrained position of my head 
and throat always caused me to froth at the 
mouth more or less. Some people think it very 
fine to see this, and say, “What fine, spirited 
creatures!” But U is just as unnatural for horses 
as for men to foam at the mouth; it is a sure sign 
of some discomfort, and should be attended 
to. Besides this, there was a pressure on my 
windpipe, which often made my breathing very 
uncomfortable; when I returned from my work, 
my neck and chest were strained and painful, 
my mouth and tongue tender, and I felt worn 
and depressed. 

In my old home I always knew that John and 
my master were my friends; but here, although 
I was well treated, I had no friend. York might 
have known, and likely did know, how that 
rein harassed me; but I suppose he took it as 
a matter of course that could not be helped; at 
any rate nothing was done to relieve me. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE LADY ANNE, OR A RUNAWAY HORSE. 


Early in the spring, Lord W-and part of 

his family went up to London, and took York 
with them. I and Ginger and some other horses 
were left at home for use, and the head groom 
was left in charge. 

The Lady Harriet, who remained at the Hall, 
was a great invalid, and never went out in the 
carnage, and the Lady Anne preferred riding on 













I 






















108 


BLACK BEAUTY 


horseback with her brother or cousins. She was 
a perfect horsewoman, and as gay and gentle 
as she was beautiful. She chose me for her 
horse, and named me “Black Auster.” I en¬ 
joyed these rides very much in the clear, cold 
air, sometimes with Ginger, sometimes with Lizzie. 
This Lizzie was a bright bay mare, almost thor¬ 
oughbred, and a great favorite with the gentle¬ 
men, on account of her fine action and lively 
spirit; but Ginger, who knew more of her than I 
did, told me she was rather nervous. 

There was a gentleman of the name of Blan- 
tyre staying at the Hall; he always rode Lizzie, 
and praised her so much that one day Lady Anne 
ordered the side-saddle to be put on her, and the 
other saddle on me. When we came to the 
door, the gentleman seemed very uneasy. 

“How is this?” he said. “Are you tired of 
your good Black Auster?” 

“Oh, no,” she replied, “but I am amiable enough 
to let you ride him for once, and I will try your 
charming Lizzie. You must confess that in 
size and appearance she is more like a lady’s 
horse than my own favorite.” 

“Do let me advise you not to mount her,” he 
said; “she is a charming creature, but she is too 
nervous for a lady. I assure you, she is not 
perfectly safe; let me beg you to have the saddles 
changed.” 

“My dear cousin,” said Lady Anne, laughing, 
“pray do not trouble your good, careful head 
about me. I have been a horsewoman ever 
since I was a baby, and I have followed the hounds 
















BLACK BEAUTY 


109 


a great many times, though I know you do not 
approve of ladies hunting; but I intend to try 
this Lizzie that you gentlemen are all so fond 
of; so please help me to mount, like a good friend 
as you are.” 

There was no more to be said; he placed her 
carefully on the saddle, looked to the bit and 
curb, gave the reins gently into her hand, and 
then mounted me. Just as we were moving 
off, a footman came out with a slip of paper 
from the Lady Harriet. “Would they ask this 
question for her at Dr. Ashley’s, and bring the 
answer?” 

The village was about a mile off, and the 
doctor’s house was the last in it. We went 
along gaily enough till we came to his gate. There 
was a short drive up to the house between tall 
evergreens. Blantyre alighted at the gate, and 
was going to open it for Lady Anne, but she 
said, “I will wait for you here, and you can 
hang Auster’s rein on the gate.” 

He looked at her doubtfully. “I will not be 
five minutes,” he said. 

“Oh, do not hurry yourself; Lizzie and I shall 
not run away from you.” 

He hung my rein on one of the iron spikes, 
and was soon hidden among the trees. Lizzie 
was standing quietly a few paces off, with her 
back to me. My young mistress was sitting 
easily with a loose rein, humming a little song. 
I listened to my rider’s footsteps until they 
reached the house, and heard him knock at the 
door. There was a meadow on the opposite 


110 


BLACK BEAUTY 


i"- 







side of the road, the gate of which stood open; 
just then some cart horses and several young 
colts came trotting out in a very disorderly man¬ 
ner, while a boy behind was cracking a great 
whip. The colts were frolicsome, and one of them 
bolted across the road, and blundered up against 
Lizzie’s hind legs; and whether it was the stupid 
colt, or the loud cracking of the whip, or both 
together, I cannot say, but she gave a violent 
kick, and dashed off into a headlong gallop. It 
was so sudden that Lady Anne was nearly un¬ 
seated, but she soon recovered herself. I gave 
a loud, shrill neigh for help; again and again I 
neighed, pawing the ground impatiently, and 
tossing my head to get the rein loose. I had 
not long to wait. Blantyre came running to the 
gate; he looked anxiously about, and caught 
sight of the flying figure, not far away on the 
road. In an instant he sprang to the saddle. 
I needed no whip, no spur, for I was as eager 
as my rider; he saw it, and giving me a free 
rein, and leaning a little forward, we dashed 
after them. 

For about a mile and a half the road ran 
straight, and then bent to the right, after which 
it divided into two roads. Long before we 
came to the bend she was out of sight. Which 
way had she turned? A woman was standing 
at her garden gate, shading her eyes with her 
hand, and looking eagerly up the road. Scarcely 
drawing the rein, Blantyre shouted, “Which way?’’ 
“To the right!” cried the woman, pointing with 
her hand, and away we went up the right-hand 






BLACK BEAUTY 


111 



road; then for a moment we caught sight of 
her; another bend and she was hidden again. 
Several times we caught glimpses, and then lost 
them. We scarcely seemed to gain ground upon 
them at all. An old road-mender was standing 
near a heap of stones, his shovel dropped and 
his hands raised. As we came near he made a 
sign to speak. Blantyre drew the rein a little. 
“To the common, to the common, sir; she has 
turned off there.” I knew this common very 
well; it was for the most part very uneven ground, 
covered with heather and dark-green furze bushes, 
with here and there a scrubby old thorn-tree; 
there were also open spaces of fine short grass, 
with ant-hills and mole-turns everywhere; the 
worst place I ever knew for a headlong gallop. 

We had hardly turned on the common, when 
we caught sight again of the green habit' flying 
on before us. My lady’s hat was gone, and her 
long brown hair was streaming behind ha*. 
Her head and body were thrown back, as if she 
were pulling with all her remaining strength. 
It was clear that the roughness of the ground 
had very much lessened Lizzie’s speed, and there 
seemed a chance that we might overtake her. 

While we were on the highroad, Blantyre had 
given me my head; but now, with a light hand 
and a practiced eye, he guided me over the 
ground in such a masterly manner that my pace 
was scarcely slackened, and we were decidedly 
gaining on them. 

About halfway across the heath there had been 
a wide dike recently cut, and the earth from the 


■i'V 






112 


BLACK BEAUTY 



cutting was cast up roughly on the other side. 
Surely this would stop them! But no; with 
scarcely a pause Lizzie took the leap, stumbled 
among the rough clods, and fell. Blantyre groaned, 
“Now, Auster, do your best!” He gave me a 
steady rein. I gathered myself well together, 
and with one determined leap cleared both dike 
and bank. 

Motionless among the heather, with her face 
to the earth, lay my poor young mistress. Blan¬ 
tyre kneeled down and called her name; there 
was no sound. Gently he turned her face upward; 
it was ghastly white, and the eyes were closed. 
“Annie, dear Annie, do speak!” But there was 
no answer. He unbuttoned her habit, loosened 
her collar, felt her hands and wrists, then started 
up and looked wildly round him for help. 

At no great distance there were two men 
cutting turf, who, seeing Lizzie running wild 
without a rider, had left their work to catch 
her. Blantyre’s halloo brought them to the 
spot. The foremost man seemed much troubled 
at the sight, and asked what he could do. “Can 
you ride?” 

“Well, sir, I bean’t much of a horseman, but 
I’d risk my neck for Lady Anne; she was uncom¬ 
mon good to my wife in the winter.” 

“Then mount this horse, my friend—your 
neck will be quite safe—and ride to the doctor’s 
and ask him to come instantly; then on to the 
Hall; tell them all that you know, and bid them 
send me the carriage with Lady Anne’s maid 
and help. I shall stay here.” 






BLACK BEAUTY 113 

“All right, sir, I’ll do my best, and I pray God 
the young lady may open her eyes soon.” Then 
seeing the other man, he called out, “Here, Joe, 
run for some water, and tell my missis to come 
as quick as she can to Lady Anne.” 

He then somehow scrambled into the saddle, 
and with a “Gee-up” and a clap on my sides with 
both his legs, he started on his journey, making 
a little circuit to avoid the dike. He had no 
whip, which seemed to trouble him; but my pace 
soon cured that difficulty, and he found the best 
thing he could do was to stick to the saddle, and 
hold me in, which he did manfully. I shook 
him as little as I could help, but once or twice 
on the rough ground he called out, “Steady! 
Whoa! Steady!” On the highroad we were all 
right, and at the doctor’s and the Hall he did 
his errand like a good man and true. They asked 
him to take a drop of something. “No, no,” 
he said, “I’ll be back to ’em again by a short 
cut through the fields, and be there afore the 
carriage.” 

There was a deal of hurry and excitement 
after the news became known. I was turned 
into my box; the saddle and bridle were taken 
off, and a cloth thrown over me. 

Ginger was saddled and sent off in great 
haste for Lord George, and I soon heard the 
carriage roll out of the yard. 

It seemed a long time before Ginger came back, 
and before we were left alone, and then she told 
me all that she had seen. “I can’t tell much,” 
she said. “We went a-gallop nearly all the way, 


114 


BLACK BEAUTY 



and got there just as the doctor rode up. There 
was a woman sitting on the ground with the 
lady’s head in her lap. The doctor poured some¬ 
thing into her mouth, but all that I heard was, 
‘She is not dead.’ Then I was led off by a man 
to a little distance. After a while she was taken 
to the carriage, and we came home together. 
I heard my master say to a gentleman who stopped 
him to inquire, that he hoped no bones were 
broken, but that she had not spoken yet.” 

When Lord George took Ginger for hunting, 
York shook his head. He said it ought to be a 
steady hand to train a horse for the first sea¬ 
son, and not a random rider like Lord George. 
Ginger used to like it very much, but some¬ 
times when she came back I could see that she 
had been very much strained, and now and then 
she gave a short cough. She had too much 
spirit to complain, but I could not help feeling 
anxious about her. 

Two days after the accident, Blantyre paid 
me a visit; he patted me and praised me very 
much; he told Lord George that he was sure the 
horse knew of Annie’s danger as well as he did. 
“I could not have held him in if I would,” said 
he. “She ought never to ride any other horse.” 
I found by their conversation that my young 
mistress was now out of danger, and would soon 
be able to ride again. This was good news to 
me, and I looked forward to a happy life. 













CHAPTER XXV. 

REUBEN SMITH. 

I must now say a little about Reuben Smith, 
who was left in charge of the stables when York 
went to London. No one more thoroughly under¬ 
stood his business than he did, and when he 
was all right there could not be a more faithful 
or valuable man. He was gentle and very clever 
in his management of horses, and could doc¬ 
tor them almost as well as a farrier, for he had 
lived two years with a veterinary surgeon. He 
was a first-rate driver; he could take a four-in- 
hand or a tandem as easily as a pair. He was 
a handsome man, a good scholar, and had very 
pleasant manners. I believe everybody liked him; 
certainly the horses did. The only wonder was 
that he should be in an under situation, and not 
in the place of a head coachman like York; but 
he had one great fault, and that was the love of 
drink. He was not like some men, always at 
it; he used to keep steady for weeks or months 
together, and then he would break out and have 
a “bout” of it, as York called it, and be a dis- 

115 














110 


BLACK BEAUTY 


grace to himself, a terror to his wife, and a nui¬ 
sance to all that had to do with him. He was, 
however, so useful that two or three times York 
had hushed the matter up, and kept it from the 
earl’s knowledge; but one night, when Reuben 
had to drive a party home from a ball, he was 
so drunk that he could not hold the reins, and 
a gentleman of the party had to mount the box 
and drive the ladies home. Of course this could 
not be hidden, and Reuben was at once dis¬ 
missed. His poor wife and little children had 
to turn out of the pretty cottage by the park gate 
and go where they could. Old Max told me 
all this, for it happened a good while ago; but 
shortly before Ginger and I came Smith had been 
taken back again. York had interceded for 
him with the earl, who is very kind-hearted, and 
the man had promised faithfully that he would 
never taste another drop as long as he lived 
there. He had kept his promise so well that 
York thought he might be safely trusted to fill 
his place while he was away, and he was so 
clever and honest that no one else seemed so 
well fitted for it. 

It was now early in April, and the family was 
expected home some time in May. The light 
brougham was to be freshly done up, and as 
Colonel Blantyre was obliged to return to his 
regiment, it was arranged that Smith should 
drive him to town in it, and ride back. For this 
purpose he took the saddle with him, and I was 
chosen for the journey. At the station the colonel 
put some money into Smith’s hand and bid him 








BLACK BEAUTY 


117 


good-by, saying, “Take care of your young mis¬ 
tress, Reuben, and don’t let Black Auster be 
hacked about by any random young prig that 
wants to ride him—keep him for the lady.” 

We left the carriage at the maker’s, and Smith 
rode me to the White Lion, and ordered the 
hostler to feed me well and have me ready for him 
at four o’clock. A nail in one of my front shoes 
had started as I came along, but the hostler did 
not notice it till just about four o’clock. Smith 
did not come into the yard till five, and then he 
said he would not leave till six, as he had met 
with some old friends. The man then told 
him of the nail, and asked if he should have the 
shoe looked to. 

“No, that will be all right till we get home.” 

He spoke in a very loud, off-hand way, and I 
thought it very unlike him not to see about the 
shoe, as he was generally particular about loose 
nails in our shoes. He did not come at six, nor 
seven, nor eight, and it was nearly nine o’clock 
before he called for me, and then it was with a 
loud, rough voice. He seemed in bad temper, 
and abused the hostler, though I could not tell 
what for. 

The landlord stood at the door and said, 
“Have a care, Mr. Smith!” but he answered 
angrily with an oath, and almost before he was 
out of the town he began to gallop, frequently 
giving me a sharp cut with his whip, though I 
was going at full speed. The moon had not 
yet risen, and it was very dark. The roads were 
stony, and going over them at this pace, my 





BLACK BEAUTY 


shoe became loose, and when we were near the 
turnpike gate it came off. 

If Smith had been in his right senses he would 
have been sensible of something wrong in my 
pace, but he was too madly drunk to notice 
anything. 

Beyond the turnpike was a long piece of road, 
upon which fresh stones had just been laid— 
large sharp stones, over which no horse could be 
driven quickly without risk of danger. Over 
this road, with one shoe gone, I was forced to gal¬ 
lop at my utmost speed, my rider meanwhile 
cutting into me with his whip, and with wild 
curses urging me to go still faster. Of course 
my shoeless foot suffered dreadfully; the hoof 
was broken and split down to the very quick, 
and the inside was terribly cut by the sharpness 
of the stones. 

This could not go on; no horse could keep 
his footing under such circumstances; the pain 
was too great. I stumbled, and fell with violence 
on both my knees. Smith was flung off by my 
fall, and, owing to the speed I was going at, he 
must have fallen with great force. I soon re¬ 
covered my feet and limped to the side of the 
road, where it was free from stones. The moon 
had just risen above the hedge, and by its light 
I could see Smith lying a few yards beyond 
He did not rise; he made one slight effort 
to do so, and then there was a heavy groan. I 
could have groaned, too, for I was suffering in- 
both from my foot and knees; but 
are used to bear their pain in silence. I 












BLACK BEAUTY 


119 


uttered no sound, but I stood there and listened. 
One more heavy groan from Smith; but though 
he now lay in the full moonlight, I could see no 
motion. I could do nothing for him nor myself, 
but, oh! how I listened for the sound of horse, 
or wheels, or footsteps! The road was not much 
frequented, and at this time of the night we might 
stay for hours before help came to us. I stood 
watching and listening. It was a calm, sweet 
April night; there were no sounds but a few 
low notes of a nightingale, and nothing moved 
but the white clouds near the moon and a brown 
owl that flitted over the hedge. It made me 
think of the summer nights long ago, when I 
used to lie beside my mother in the green pleas¬ 
ant meadow at Farmer Grey’s. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

HOW IT ENDED. 

It must have been nearly midnight when I 
heard at a great distance the sound of a horse’s 
feet. Sometimes the sound died away, then it 

9 











120 


BLACK BEAUTY 




grew clearer again and nearer. The road to 
Earlshall led through woods that belonged to 
the Earl; the sound came from that direction, 
and I hoped it might be someone coming in 
search of us. As the sound came nearer and 
nearer, I was almost sure I could distinguish 
Ginger’s step; a little nearer still, and I could tell 
she was in the dog-cart. I neighed loudly, and 
was overjoyed to hear an answering neigh from 
Ginger and men’s voices. They came slowly 
over the stones, and stopped at the dark figure 
that lay upon the ground. 

One of the men jumped out and stooped down 
over it. "It is Reuben,” he said, "and he does 
not stir!” 

The other man followed, and bent over him. 
“He’s dead ,’ 2 he said; “feel how cold his hands 
are.” 

They raised him up, but there was no life, and 
his hair was soaked with blood. They laid 
him down again, and came and looked at me. 
They soon saw my cut knees. 

‘-Why, the horse has been down and thrown 
him! Who would have thought the black horse 
would have done that? Nobody thought he 
could fall. Reuben must have been lying here 
for hours! Odd, too, that the horse has not 
moved from the place.” 

Robert then attempted to lead me forward. 
I made a step, but almost fell again. 

"Halloo! he’s bad in his foot as well as his 
knees. Look here—his hoof is cut all to pieces; 











BLACK BEAUTY 


121 


you what, Ned, I’m afraid it hasn’t been all 
right with Reuben. Just think of his riding a 
horse over these stones without a shoe! Why, 
if he had been in his right senses, he would just 
as soon have tried to ride him over the moon. 
I’m afraid it has been the old thing over again. 
Poor Susan! she looked awfully pale when she 
came to my house to ask if he had not come 
home. She made believe she was not a bit anxious, 
and talked of a lot of things that might have 
kept him. But for all that she begged me to 
go and meet him. But what must we do? There’s 
the horse to get home as well as the body, and 
that will be no easy matter.” 

Then followed a conversation between them, 
till it was agreed that Robert, as the groom, 
should lead me, and that Ned must take the body. 
It was a hard job to get it into the dog-cart, for 
there was no one to hold Ginger: but she knew 
as well as I did what was going on, and stood 
as still as a stone. I noticed that, because, 
if she had a fault, it was that she was impatient 
in standing. 

Ned started off very slowly with his sad load, 
and Robert came and looked at my foot again; 
then he took his handkerchief and bound it closely 
round, and so he led me home. I shall never 
forget that night walk; it was more than three 
miles. Robert led me on very slowly, and I 
limped and hobbled on as well as I could with 
great pain. I am sure he was sorry for me, for 
he often patted and encouraged me, talking 
to me in a pleasant voice. 



122 


BLACK BEAUTY 


At last I reached my own box, and had some 
corn; and after Robert had wrapped up my knees 
in wet cloths he tied up my foot in a bran poul¬ 
tice, to draw out the heat and cleanse it before 
the horse-doctor saw it in the morning, and I 
managed to get myself down on the straw, and 
slept in spite of the pain. 

The next day, after the farrier had examined 
my wounds, he said he hoped the joint was not 
injured; and if so, I should not be spoiled for 
work, but I should never lose the blemish. I 
believe they did the best to make a good cure, 
but it was a long and painful one. Proud flesh, 
as they called it, came up in my knees, and was 
burned out with caustic; and when at last it 
was healed, they put a blistering fluid over the 
front of both knees to bring all the hair off; they 
had some reason for this, and I suppose it was 
all right. 

As Smith’s death had been so sudden, and no 
one was there to see it, there was an inquest held. 
The landlord and hostler at the White Lion, with 
several other people, gave evidence that he was 
intoxicated when he started from the inn. The 
keeper of the toll-gate said he rode at a hard 
gallop through the gate; and my shoe was picked 
up. amongst the stones, so that the case was 
quite plain to them, and I was cleared of all 
blame. 

Everybody pitied Susan. She was nearly out 
of her mind; she kept saying over and over again, 
“Oh! he was so good—so good! It was all that 
cursed drink; 0! Reuben, Reuben!” So she 








BLACK BEAUTY 


123 



went on till after he was buried; and then, as 
she had no home or relation, she with her six 
little children was obliged once more to leave 
the pleasant home by the tall oak trees and go 
into that great, gloomy Union House. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

RUINED, AND GOING DOWNHILL. 

As soon as my knees were sufficiently healed 
I was turned into a small meadow for a month 
or two; no other creature was there, and though 
I enjoyed the liberty and the sweet grass, yet I 
had been so long used to society that I felt very 
lonely. Ginger and I had become fast friends, 
and now I missed her company extremely. I 
often neighed when I heard horses’ feet passing 
in the road, but I seldom got an answer, till one 
morning the gate was opened, and who should 
come in but dear old Ginger. The man slipped 
off her halter and left her there. With a joy¬ 
ful whinny I trotted up to her; we were both glad 
to meet, but I soon found that it was not for 
our pleasure that she was brought to be with 
me. Her story would be too long to tell, but the 
end of it was that she had been ruined by hard 
riding, and was now turned off to see what rest 
would do. 

Lord George was young and would take no 
warning; he was a hard rider, and would hunt 
whenever he could get the chance, quite careless 
of his horse. Soon after I left the. stable there 
was a steeplechase, and he determined to ride. 





124 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Though the groom told him she was a little strained, 
and was not fit for the race, he did not believe 
it, and on the day of the race urged Ginger to 
keep up with the foremost riders. With her 
high spirit, she strained herself to the utmost; 
she 'Came in with the first three horses, but her 
wind was touched, besides which he was too 
heavy for her, and her back was strained. “And 
so,” she said, “here we are, ruined in the prime 
of our youth and strength, you by a drunkard 
and I by a fool; it is very hard.” We both felt 
in ourselves that we were not what we had been. 
However, that did not spoil the pleasure we had 
in each other’s company; we did not gallop around 
as we once did, but we used to feed and lie down 
together, and stand for hours under one of the 
shady lime trees with our heads close to each 
other; and so we passed our time until the family 
returned from town. 

One day we saw the earl come into the mea¬ 
dow, and York was with him. Seeing who it 
was, we stood still under our lime tree, and 
let them come up to us. They examined us 
carefully. The earl seemed much annoyed. 

“There is three hundred pounds flung away 
for no^ earthly use,” said he; “but what I care for 
most is that these horses of my old friend, who 
thought they would find a good home with me, 
are ruined. The mare shall have a twelve months’ 
run, and we shall see what that will do for her; 
but the black one must be sold; ’tis a great pity, 
but I could not have knees like these in my 
stables.” 




BLACK BEAUTY 


125 


“No, my lord, of course not,” said York; 
“but he might get a place where appearance is 
not of much consequence, and still be well treated. 
I know a man in Bath, the master of some livery 
stables, who often wants a good horse at a low 
figure; I know he looks well after his horses. 
The inquest cleared the horse's character, and 
your lordship's recommendation or mine would 
be sufficient warrant for him." 

“You had better write to him, York. I should 
be more particular about the place than the money 
he would fetch." After this they left us. 

“They'll soon take you away," said Ginger, 
“I shall lose the only friend I have, and most 
likely we shall never see each other again. 'Tis 
a hard world!" 

About a week after this Robert came into the 
field with a halter, which he slipped over my 
head, and led me away. There was no leave- 
taking of Ginger; we neighed to each other 
as I was led off, and she trotted anxiously along 
by the hedge, calling to me as long as she could 
hear the sound of my feet. 

Through the recommendation of York I was 
bought by the master of the stables. I had to 
go by train, which was new to me, and required 
a good deal of courage the first time; but as I 
found the puffing, rushing, whistling, and, more 
than all, the trembling of the horse-box in which 
I stood did me no real harm, I soon took it quietly. 

When I reached the end of my journey I 
found myself in a tolerably comfortable stable, 
and well attended to. These stables were not 



126 


BLACK BEAUTY 




so airy and pleasant as those I had been used 
to. The stalls were laid on a slope instead of 
being level, and as my head was kept tied to the 
manger, I was obliged to stand on the slope, which 
was very fatiguing. Men do not seem to know 
yet that horses can do more work if they can stand 
comfortably and can turn about; however, I was 
well fed and well cleaned, and, on the whole, I 
think our master took as much care of us as 
he could. He kept a good many horses and car¬ 
riages of different kinds for hire. Sometimes 
his own men drove them; at others, the horse 
and chaise were let to gentlemen or ladies who 
themselves drove. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 


A JOB HOESE AND HIS DRIVERS. 






Hitherto I had always been driven by people 
who at least knew how to drive; but in this 
place I was to get my experience of all the different 
kinds of bad and ignorant 'driving to which we 
horses are subjected; for I was a “job horse,” 
and was let out to all sorts of people who wished 
to hire me; and as I was good-tempered, I think I 
was oftener let out to the ignorant drivers than 
some of the other horses, because I could be 
depended upon. It would take a long time 





BLACK BEAUTY 127 



to tell of all the different styles in which I was 
driven, but I will mention a few of them. 

First, there were the tight-rein drivers —men 
who seemed to think that all depended on holding 
the reins as hard as they could, never relaxing 
the pull on the horse’s mouth, or giving him 
the least liberty of movement. They are always 
talking about “keeping the horse well in hand,” 
and “holding a horse up,” just as if a horse 
was not made to hold himself up. 

Some poor, broken-down horses, whose mouths 
have been made hard and insensible by just such 
drivers as these, may perhaps find some sup¬ 
port in it; but for a horse who can depend upon 
his own legs, and who has a tender mouth and is 
easily guided, it is not only tormenting, but it 
is stupid. 

Then there are the loose-rein drivers, who let 
the reins lie easily on our backs, and their hand 
rest lazily on their knees. Of course such gentle¬ 
men have no control over a horse, if anything 
happens suddenly. If a horse shies, or starts, 
or stumbles, they are nowhere, and cannot 
help the horse or themselves till the mischief 
is done. I had no objection to it, as I was not in 
the habit of either starting or stumbling, and 
had only been used to depend on my driver 
for guidance and encouragement; still, one likes 
to feel the rein a little in going downhill, and 
likes to know that one’s driver has not gone to 
sleep. 

Besides, a slovenly way of driving gets a horse 
into bad and often lazy habits; and when he 






128 


BLACK BEAUTY 


changes hands he has to be whipped out of them 
with more or less pain and trouble. Squire 
Gordon always kept us to our best paces and our 
best manners. He said that spoiling a horse and 
letting him get into bad habits was just as cruel 
as spoiling a child, and both had to suffer for it 
afterwards. 

Besides, these drivers are often careless alto¬ 
gether, and will attend to anything else more 
than their horses. I went out in the phaeton 
one day with one of them; he had a lady and two 
children behind. He flopped the reins about 
as we started, and gave me several unmeaning 
cuts with the whip, though I was fairly off. There 
had been a good deal of road-mending going on, 
and even where the stones were not freshly laid 
down there were a great many loose ones about. 
My driver was laughing and joking with the lady 
and the children, and talking about the country 
to the right and to the left; but he never thought 
it worth while to keep an eye on his horse, or to 
drive on the smoothest parts of the road; and so 
it happened that I got a stone in one of my 
forefeet. 

Now, if Mr. Gordon, or John, or in fact any 
good driver, had been there, he would have seen 
that something was wrong before I had gone 
three paces. Or even if it had been dark, a 
practiced hand would have felt by the rein that 
there was something wrong in the step, and 
they would have got down and picked out the 
stone. But this man went on laughing and 
talking, while at every step the stone became 



BLACK BEAUTY 


129 

more firmly wedged between my shoe and the 
frog of my foot. The stone was sharp on the in¬ 
side and round on the outside, which, as every¬ 
one knows, is the most dangerous kind that 
a horse can pick up, at the same time cutting his 
foot, and making him most liable to stumble 
and fall. 

Whether the man was partly blind, or only 
very careless, I can’t say; but he drove me with 
that stone in my foot for a good half-mile before 
he saw anything. _ By that time I was going so 
lame with the pain that at last he saw it, and 
called out, “Well, here’s a go! Why, they 
have sent us out with a lame horse! What 
a shame!” 

He then chucked the reins and flipped about 
with the whip, saying, “Now, then, it’s no use 
playing the old soldier with me; there’s the 
journey to go, and it’s no use turning lame and 
lazy.” 

Just at this time a farmer came riding up on 
a brown cob; he lifted his hat and pulled up. 

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said, “but I think 
there is something the matter with your horse; 
he goes very much as if he had a stone in his 
shoe. If you will allow me, I will look at his 
feet; these loose scattered stones are confounded 
dangerous things for the horses.” 

“He’s a hired horse,” said my driver. “I 
do not know what is the matter with him, but it 
is a great shame to send out a lame beast like 
this.’ 2 






130 


BLACK BEAUTY 



foot. “Bless me, there’s a stone! Lame! I 
should think so!” 

At first he tried to dislodge it with his hand; 
but as it was now very tightly wedged, he drew 
a stone-pick out of his pocket, and very carefully,' 
and with some trouble, got it out. Then hold¬ 
ing it up, he said, “There, that’s the stone your 
horse had picked up; it is a wonder he did not fall 
down and break his knees into the bargain!” 

“Well, to be sure!” said my driver; “that is a 
queer thing! I never knew that horses picked up 
stones before.” 

“Didn't you?” said the farmer rather con¬ 
temptuously; “but they do, though, and the 
best of them will do it, and can’t help it some¬ 
times on such roads as these. And if you don’t 
want to lame your horse you must look sharp 
and get them cut quickly. This foot is very 
much bruised,” he said, setting it gently down 
and patting me. “You had better drive him 
gently for a while; the foot is a good deal hurt, 
and the lameness will not go off directly.” Then 
mounting his cob and raising his hat to the 
lady, he trotted off. 

When he was gone my driver began to flop 
the reins about and whip the harness, by which 
I understood that I was to go on, which of course 
I did, glad that the stone was gone, but still 
in a good deal of pain. This was the sort of ex¬ 
perience we job horses often came in for. 











COCKNEYS. 


Then there is the steam-engine style of driving; 
these drivers were mostly people from towns, 
who never had a horse of their own, and generally 
traveled by rail. 

They always seemed to think that a horse was 
something like a steam-engine, only smaller . At 
any rate, they think that if only they pay for it 
a horse is bound to go just as far and just as 
fast and with just as heavy a load as they please. 
And be the roads heavy and muddy, or dry and 
good; be they stony or smooth, uphill or down¬ 
hill, it is all the same—on, on, on one must go, 
at the same pace, with no relief and no consider¬ 
ation. 

These people never think of getting out to 
walk up a steep hill. Oh, no, they have paid 
to ride, and ride they will! The horse? Oh, 
he's used to it! What were horses made for, 
if not to drag people uphill? Walk? A good joke 
indeed! And so the whip is plied and the rein is 
chucked, and often a rough, scolding voice 
cries out, "‘Go along, you lazy beast!' 2 And 
then another slash of the whip, when all the 
131 












132 


BLACK BEAUTY 


time we are doing our very best to get along, un¬ 
complaining and obedient, though often sorely 
harassed and down-hearted. 

This steam-engine style of driving wears us 
out faster than any other kind. 1 would far 
rather go twenty miles with a good, considerate 
driver than I would go ten with some of these; it 
would take less out of me. 

Another thing, they scarcely ever put on the 
brake, however steep the downhill may be, and 
thus bad accidents sometimes happen; or if they 
do put it on, they often forget to take it off 
at the bottom of the hill, and more than once I 
have had to pull halfway up the next hill, with 
one of the wheels held by the brake, before 
my driver chose to think about it, and that is 
a terrible strain on a horse. 

Then these cockneys, instead of starting at 
an easy pace, as a gentleman would do, generally 
set off at full speed from the very stable-yard; 
and when they want to stop, they first whip us, 
and then pull up so suddenly that we are nearly 
thrown on our haunches, and our mouths jagged 
with the bit—they call that pulling up with a 
dash; and when they turn a corner, they do it 
as sharply as if there were no right side or wrong 
side of the road. 

I well remember one spring evening I and 
Rory had been out for the day. (Rory was the 
horse that mostly went with me when a pair was 
ordered, and a good honest fellow he was.) We 
had our own driver, and, as he was always con¬ 
siderate and gentle with us, we had a very pleas- 



BLACK BEAUTY 


183 

ant day. We were coming home at a good smart 
pace, about twilight. Our road turned sharp 
to the left, but as we were close to the hedge on 
our own side, and there was plenty of room to 
pass, our driver did not pull us in. As we neared 
the corner I heard a horse and two wheels com¬ 
ing rapidly down the hill toward us. The hedge 
was high, and I could see nothing, but the next 
moment we were upon each other. Happily 
for me, I was on the side next the hedge. Rory 
was on the left side of the pole, and had not even 
a shaft to protect him. The man who was 
driving was making straight for the comer, and 
when he came in sight of us he had no time 
to pull over to his own side. The whole shock 
came upon Rory. The gig shaft ran right into 
his chest, making him stagger back with a cry 
that I shall never forget. The other horse was 
thrown upon his haunches and one shaft broken. 
It turned out that it was a horse from our own 
stables, with the high-wheeled gig that the 
young men were so fond of. 

The driver was one of those random, ignorant 
fellows who don’t even know which is their 
own side of the road, or, if they know, don’t care. 
And there was poor Rory with his flesh torn open 
and bleeding, and the blood streaming down. 
They said if it had been a little more to one side 
it would have killed him; and a good thing for 
him, poor fellow, if it had. 

As it was, it was a long time before the wound 
healed, and then he was sold for coal-carting; 
and what that is up and down those steep hills, 

M / 






134 


BLACK BEAUTY 



only horses know. Some of the sights I saw 
there, where a horse had to come downhill with 
a heavily loaded two-wheel cart behind him, 
on which no brake could be placed, make me 
sad even now to think of. 

After Rory was disabled, I often went in the 
carriage with a mare named Peggy, who stood 
in the next stall to mine. She was a strong, well- 
made animal, of a bright dun color, beautifully 
dappled, and with a dark-brown mane and tail. 
There was no high breeding about her, but she 
was very pretty, and remarkably sweet-tem¬ 
pered and willing. Still, there was an anxious 
look about her eye, by which I knew that she 
had some trouble. The first time we went out 
together I thought she had a very odd pace; 
she seemed to go partly a trot, partly a canter, 
three or four paces, and then a little jump forward, 
was very unpleasant for any horse who 
with her, and made me quite fidgety, 
home I asked her what made her 
>dd, awkward way. 
said, in a troubled manner, “1 know 
are very bad, but what can I do? It 
my fault; it is just because my legs 
I stand nearly as high as you, but 
legs are a good three inches longer above your 
than mine, and of course you can take a 
longer step and go much faster. You see 
I did not make myself. I wish I could have 
• T would have had long legs then. All 
come from my short legs,” said 
tone. 









BLACK BEAUTY 135 

“But how is it,” I said, “when you are so strong 
and good-tempered and willing?” 

“Why, you see/' said she, “men will go so fast, 
and if one can't keep up to other horses, it is 
nothing but whip, whip, whip, all the time. 
And so I have had to keep up as I could, and 
have got into this ugly, shuffling pace. It was 
not always so; when I lived with my first mas¬ 
ter I always went a good, regular trot; but then 
he was not in such a hurry. He was a young 
country clergyman, and a good, kind master. 
He had two churches a good way apart, and a 
great deal of work, but he never scolded or 
whipped me for not going faster. He was very 
fond of me. I only wish I was with him now; 
but he went to a large town, and then I was 
sold to a farmer. 

“Some farmers, you know, are capital masters, 
but I think this one was a low sort of man. He 
cared nothing about good horses or good driving; 
he only cared for going fast. I went as fast 
as I could, but that would not do, and he was 
always whipping; so I got into this way of mak¬ 
ing a spring forward to keep up. On market 
night he used to stay very late at the inn, and 
then drive home at a gallop. 

“One dark night he was galloping home as 
usual, when all on a sudden the wheel came against 
some great heavy thing in the road, and turned 
the gig over in a minute. He was thrown out 
and his arm broken, and some of his ribs, I think. 
At any rate, it was the end of my living with 
him, and I was not sorry. But you see it will 

10 ' * " - .- 










136 


BLACK BEAUTY 


be the same everywhere for me, if men must 
go so fast. I wish my legs were longer!” 

Poor Peggy! I was very sorry for her, and I 
could not comfort her, for 1 knew how hard it 
was upon slow-paced horses to be put with fast 
ones; all the whipping comes to their share, and 
they can't help It. 

She was often used in the phaeton, and was 
very much liked by some of the ladies, because 
she was so gentle; and some time after this she 
was sold to two ladies who themselves drove, 
and wanted a safe, good horse. 1 met her several 
times out in the country, going a good, steady 
pace, and looking as contented as a horse could 
be. I was glad to see her, for she deserved a 
good place. 

After she left us, another horse came in her 
stead. He was young, and had a bad name 
for shying and starting, by which he had lost a 
good place. I asked him what made him shy. 

“Well, I hardly know,” he said. “I was 
timid when I was young, and was a good deal 
frightened several times, and if I saw anything 
strange I used to turn and look at it—you see 
with our blinkers one can’t see or understand what 
a thing is unless one looks around—and then 
my master always gave me a whipping, which, 
of course, made me start on, and did not make 
me less afraid. I think if he would have let me 
just look at things quietly, and see that there 
was nothing to hurt me, it would have been all 
right, and I should have got used to them. One 
day an old gentleman was riding with him, and 



BLACK BEAUTY 


137 


a large piece of white paper or rag blew across 
just on one side of me. I shied and started 
forward. My master as usual whipped me smart¬ 
ly, but the old man cried out, ‘You’re wrong! 
you’re wrong! You should never whip a horse 
for shying; he shies because he is frightened, 
and you only frighten him more and make the 
habit worse.’ So I suppose all men don’t do 
so. I am sure I don’t want to shy for the sake 
of it; but how should one know what is danger¬ 
ous and what is not, if one is never allowed to 
get used to anything? I am never afraid of 
what I know. Now, I was brought up in a park 
where there were deer; of course I knew them 
as well as I did a sheep or a cow, but they are 
not common, and I know many sensible horses 
who are frightened at them, and who kick up 
quite a shindy before they will pass a paddock 
where there are deer.” 

I knew all that my companion said was 
true, and I wished that every young horse had as 
good masters as Farmer Grey and Squire 
Gordon. 

Of course we sometimes came in for good 
driving here. I remember one morning I was 
put into the light gig, and taken to a house 
in Pulteney Street. Two gentlemen came out; 
the taller of them came round to my head; he 
looked at the bit and bridle, and just shifted the 
collar with his hand, to see if it fitted comfort¬ 
ably. 

“Do you consider this horse wants a curb?” 
he said to his hostler. “Well,” said the man, 


138 


BLACK BEAUTY 



“I should say he would go just as well without; 
he has an uncommon good mouth, and though he 
has a fine spirit he has no vice; but we gener¬ 
ally find people like the curb.” 

"I don’t like it,” said the gentleman; “be so 
good as to take it off, and put the rein in at the 
check. An easy mouth is a great thing on a long 
journey, is it not, old fellow?” he said, patting 
my neck. 

Then he took the reins, and they both got 
up. I can remember now how quietly he turned 
me round, and then with a light feel of the rein, 
and drawing the whip gently across my back, 
we were off. I arched my neck and set off at 
my best pace. I found I had someone behind 
me who knew how a good horse ought to be 
driven. It seemed like old times again, and 
made me feel quite gay. 

This gentleman took a great liking to me, 
and after trying me several times with the saddle 
he prevailed upon my master to sell me to a friend 
of his, who wanted a safe, pleasant horse for rid¬ 
ing. And so it came to pass that in the sum¬ 
mer I was sold to Mr. Barry. 





': J - 







BLACK BEAUTY 139 

CHAPTER XXX. 

A THIEF. 

# My new master was an unmarried man. He 
lived at Bath,. and was engaged in business. 
His doctor advised him to take horse exercise, 
and for this purpose he bought me. He hired 
a stable a short distance from his lodgings, and 
engaged a man named Filcher as groom. My 
master knew very little about horses, but he 
treated me well, and I should have had a good 
and easy place but for circumstances of which 
he was ignorant. He ordered the best hay with 
plenty of oats, crushed beans, and bran, with 
vetches, or rye grass, as the man might think 
needful. I heard the master give the order, so 
I knew there was plenty of good food. 

For a few days all went on well. I found that 
my groom understood his business. He kept 
the stable clean and airy, and he groomed me 
thoroughly, and was never otherwise than gen¬ 
tle. He had been a hostler in one of the great 
hotels in Bath. He had given that up, and now 
cultivated fruit and vegetables for the market, 
and his wife bred and fattened ^ poultry and rab¬ 
bits for sale. After a while it seemed to me 
that my oats came very short; I had the beans, 
but bran was mixed with them instead of oats, of 
which there were very few; certainly not more 
than a quarter of what there should have been. 
In two or three weeks this began to tell upon my 
strength and spirits. The grass food, though 
very good, was not the thing to keep up my 




140 


BLACK BEAUTY 


condition without corn. However, I could not 
complain, nor make known my wants. So it 
went on for about two months, and I wondered 
my master did not see that something was the 
matter. However, one afternoon he rode out 
into the country to see a friend of his, a gentle¬ 
man farmer, who lived on the road to Wells. 

This gentleman had a very quick eye for horses; 
and after he had welcomed his friend he said, 
casting his eye over me—“It seems to me, Barry, 
that your horse does not look so well as he did 
when you first had him; has he been well?” 

“Yes,” said my master; “but he is not nearly 
so lively as he was; my groom tells me that 
horses are always dull and weak in the autumn, 
and that I must expect it.” 

“Autumn, fiddlesticks!” said the farmer. “Why, 
this is only August; and with your light work 
and good food he ought not to go down like this, 
even if it was autumn. How do you feed him?” 

My master told him. The other shook his 
head slowly, and began to feel me over. 

“1 can’t say who eats your corn, my dear fellow, 
hut I am much mistaken if your horse gets it. Have 
you ridden fast?” 

“No, very gently.” 

“Then just put your hand here,” said he, 
passing his hand over my neck and shoulder, 
“he is as warm and damp as a horse just come 
up from grass. I advise you to look into your 
stable a little more. I hate to be suspicious, 
and, thank Heaven, I have no cause to be, for I 
can trust my men, present or absent; but there 


BLACK BEAUTY 


141 


are mean scoundrels, wicked enough to rob a dumb 
beast, of his food; you must look into it,” And 
turning to his man who had come to take me, 
said, “Give this horse a right good feed of bruised 
oats, and don’t stint him.” 

“Dumb beasts!” Yes, we are; but if I could 
have spoken I could have told my master where 
his oats went to. My groom used to come every 
morning about six o’clock, and with him a little 
boy, who always had a covered basket with 
him. He used to go with his father into the har¬ 
ness-room, where the corn was kept, and I could 
see them, when the door stood ajar, fill a little 
bag with oats out of the bin, and then he used 
to be off. 

Five or six mornings after this, just as the boy 
had left the stable, a policeman walked in, hold¬ 
ing the child tight by the arm; another followed 
and locked the door on the inside, saying, “Show 
me the place where your father keeps his rab¬ 
bits’ food.” 

The boy looked very frightened and began 
to cry; but there was no escape, and he led the 
way to the corn-bin. Here the policeman found 
another empty bag like that which was found 
full of oats in the boy’s basket. 

Filcher was cleaning my feet at the time, but 
they soon saw him, and though he blustered a 
good deal they walked him off to the “lock-up,” 
and his boy with him. I heard afterwards that 
the boy was not held to be guilty, but the man 
was sentenced to prison for two months. 


10 



A HUMBUG. 




My master was not immediately suited, but in 
a few days my new groom came. He was a 
tall, good-looking fellow enough; but if ever there 
was a humbug in the shape of a groom Alfred 
Smirk was the man. He was very civil to me, 
and never used me ill; in fact, he did a great deal 
of stroking and patting, when his master was 
there to see it. He always brushed my mane 
and tail with water, and my hoofs with oil, be¬ 
fore he brought me to the door, to make me 
look smart; but as to cleaning my feet, or looking 
to my shoes, or grooming me thoroughly, he 
thought no more of that than if I had been 
a cow. He left my bit rusty, my saddle damp, 
and my crupper stiff. 

Alfred Smirk considered himself very hand¬ 
some; he spent a deal of time about his hair, whis¬ 
kers, and necktie before a little looking-glass 
in the harness-room. When his master was 
142 






BLACK BEAUTY 


148 


speaking to him it was always “Yes, sir; yes, 
sir”—touching his hat at every word; and every¬ 
one thought he was a very nice young man, 
and that Mr. Barry was very fortunate to meet 
with him. I should say he was the laziest, most 
conceited fellow I ever came near. Of course 
it was a great thing not to be ill-used, but 
then a horse wants more than that. I had a 
loose box, and might have been very comfortable 
if he had not been too indolent to clean it out. 
He never took all the straw away, and the smell 
from what lay underneath was very bad; while the 
strong vapors that rose made my eyes smart 
and inflamed, and I did not feel the same appe¬ 
tite for my food. 

One day his master came in and said, “Alfred, 
the stable smells rather strong; should not you 
give that stall a good scrub, and throw down 
plenty of water?” 

“Well, sir,” he said, touching his cap, “I’ll do 
so if you please, sir; but it is rather dangerous, 
sir, throwing down water in a horse’s box; they 
are very apt to take cold, sir. I should not like 
to do him an injury, but I’ll do it if you please, 
sir.” 

“Well,” said the master, “I should not like him 
to take cold, but I don’t like the smell of this 
stable. Do you think the drains are all right?” 

“Well, sir, now you mention it, I think the 
drain does sometimes send back a smell; there 
may be something wrong, sir.” 

“Then send for the bricklayer and have it 
seen to,” said the master. 








BLACK BEAUTY 



144 . 




The bricklayer came, and pulled up a great 
many bricks, but found nothing amiss; so he p>ut 
down some lime, and charged the master five shill" 
ings, and the smell in my box was as bad as ever. 
But that was not all: standing as I did on a quan¬ 
tity of moist straw, my feet grew unhealthy and 
tender, and the master used to say, “I don’t know 
what is the matter with this horse; he goes very 
fumble-footed. I am sometimes afraid he will 
stumble.” 

“Yes sir,” said Alfred, “I have noticed 
the same myself, when I have exercised him.” 

Now the fact was that he hardly ever did exer¬ 
cise me, and when the master was busy I often 
stood for days together without stretching my legs 
at all, and yet being fed just as high as if I were 
at hard work. This often disordered my health, 
and made me sometimes heavy and dull, but more 
often restless and feverish. He never gave me 
a meal of green food or a bran mash which would 
have cooled me, for he was altogether as ignorant 
as he was conceited; and then, instead of exercise or 
change of food, I had to take horseballs and draughts 
which besides the nuisance of having them 
poured down my throat, used to make me feel 
ill and uncomfortable. 

One day my feet were so tender that, trotting 
over some fresh stones with my master on my 
back, I made two such serious stumbles that, 
as he came down Lansdown into the city, he 
stopped at the farrier’s, and asked him to see what 
was the matter with me. The man took my 
feet one by one and examined them; then stand- 





BLACK BEAUTY 



145 



ing up and dusting his hands one against the 
other, he said, “Your horse has got the ‘thrush/ 
and badly, too; his feet are very tender; it is 
fortunate that he has not been down. I wonder 
your groom has not seen to it before. This 
is the sort of thing we find in foul stables, where 
the litter is. never properly cleaned out. If you 
will send him here to-morrow I will attend to 
the hoof, and I will direct your man how to apply 
the liniment which I will give him.” 

The next day I had my feet thoroughly cleansed 
and stuffed with tow soaked in some strong lo¬ 
tion; and a very unpleasant business it was. 

The farrier ordered all the litter to be taken 
out of my box, day by day, and the floor kept very 
clean. Then I was to have bran mashes, a little 
green food, and not so much com, till my feet 
were well again. With this treatment I soon re¬ 
gained my spirits; but Mr. Barry was so much 
disgusted at being twice deceived by his grooms 
that he determined to give up keeping a horse, 
and to hire when he wanted one. I was there¬ 
fore kept till my feet were quite well, and was 
then sold again. 






146 BLACK BEAUTY 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

A HOESE FAIE. 

No doubt a horse fair is a very amusing place 
to those who have nothing to lose; at any rate, 
there is plenty to see. 

Long strings of young horses out of the country, 
fresh from the marshes; and droves of shaggy 
little Welsh ponies, no higher than Merrylegs; 
and hundreds of cart horses of all sorts, some 
of them with their long tails braided up and 
tied with scarlet cord; and a good many like my¬ 
self, handsome and high-bred, but fallen into the 
middle class through some accident or blemish, 
unsoundness of wind, or some other complaint. 
There were some splendid animals quite in their 
prime, and fit for anything; they were throwing 
out their legs and showing off their paces in 
high style, as they were trotted out with a leading- 
rein, the groom running by their side. But round 
in the background there were a number of poor 
things, sadly broken down with hard work, with 
their knees knuckling over and their hind legs 
swinging out at every step; and there were some 
very dejected-looking old horses, with the under¬ 
lip hanging down and the ears lying back heavily, 
as if there were no more pleasure in life, and no 
more hope; there were some so thin you might see 
all their ribs, and some with old sores on their 
backs and hips. These were sad sights for a horse 
to look upon. 

There was a great deal of bargaining, of run¬ 
ning up and beating down; and, if a horse may 












BLACK BEAUTY 


147 



speak his mind so far as he understands, I should 
say there were more lies told and more trickery at 
that horse fair than a clever man could give an 
account of. I was put with two or three other 
strong, useful-looking horses, and a good many 
people came to look at us. The gentlemen al¬ 
ways turned from me when they saw my broken 
knees, though the man who had me swore it was 
only a slip in the stall. 

The first thing was to pull my mouth open, then 
to look at my eyes, then to feel all the way down 
my legs and give me a hard feel of the skin and 
flesh, and then try my paces. It was wonder¬ 
ful what a difference there was in the way these 
things were done. Some did it in a rough, off¬ 
hand way, as if one was only a piece of wood;— 
while others would move their hands gently over 
one’s body, with a pat now and then, as much as 
to say, “By your leave.” Of course I judged a 
good deal of the buyers by their manners to my¬ 
self. 

There was one man, I thought, if he would buy 
me I should be happy. He was not a gentleman, 
nor yet one of the loud, flashy sort that called 
themselves so. He was rather a small man, but 
well made, and quick in all his motions. I knew 
in a moment, by the way he handled me, that he 
was used to horses; he spoke gently, and his gray 
eye had a kindly, cheery look in it. It may seem 
strange to say—but it is true all the same—that 
the clean, fresh smell there was about him made 
me take to him; no smell of old beer and tobacco, 
which I hated, but a fresh smell, as if he had come 











148 


BLACK BEAUTY 


out of a hayloft. He offered twenty-three pounds 
for me; but that was refused, and he walked 
away. I looked after him, but he was gone, and 
a very hard-looking, loud-voiced man came. 
I was dreadfully afraid he would have me, but 
he walked off. One or two more came who did 
not mean business. Then the hard-faced man 
came back again and offered twenty-three pounds. 
A very close bargain was being driven, for my 
salesman began to think he should not get all 
he asked, and must come down; but just then the 
gray-eyed man came back again. I could not 
help reaching out my head toward him. He 
stroked my face kindly. 

“Well, old chap,” he said, “I think we should 
suit each other well. I’ll give twenty-four for 
him.” 

“Say twenty-five, and you shall have him.” 

“Twenty-four ten,” said my friend, in a very 
decided tone, “and not another sixpence—yes, 
or no?” 

“Done,” said the salesman; “and you may 
depend upon it there’s a monstrous deal of quality 
in that horse, and if you want him for cab work 
he is a bargain.” 

The money was paid on the spot, and my 
new master took my halter and led me out of the 
fair to an inn, where he had a saddle and bridle 
ready. He gave me a good feed of oats, and stood 
by while I ate it, talking to himself and talking 
to me. Half an hour after we were on our way 
to London, through pleasant lanes and country 
roads, until we came into the great London thor- 



BLACK BEAUTY 


149 


oughfare, on which we traveled steadily, till 
in the twilight we reached the great city. The 
gas lamps were already lighted; there were streets 
to the right, and streets to the left, and streets 
crossing each other, for mile upon mile. I thought 
we should never come to the end of them. At 
last we came to a long cab stand, when my rider 
called out in a cheery voice, “Good-night, Gover¬ 
nor!” 

“Halloo!” cried a voice. “Have you got a 
good one?” 

“I think so,” replied my owner. 

“I wish you luck with him.” 

“Thank ye. Governor,” and he rode on. We 
soon turned up one of the side streets, and about 
halfway up that we turned into a very narrow 
street with rather poor-looking houses on one side, 
and what seemed to be coach-houses and stables 
on the other. 

My owner pulled up at one of the houses and 
whistled. The door flew open and a young 
woman, followed by a little girl and boy, ran 
out. There was a very lively greeting as my 
rider dismounted. “Now then, Harry, my boy, 
open the gates, and mother will bring us the 
lantern.” 

The next minute they were all standing round 
me in a small stable-yard. “Is he gentle, father?” 

“Yes, Dolly, as gentle as your own kitten; 
come and pat him.” At once the little hand 
was patting about over my shoulder without 
fear. How good it felt! 

“Let me get him a bran mash while you rub 


150 


BLACK BEAUTY 


him down,' 5 said the mother. 

“Do, Polly, it’s just what he wants; and I 
know you’ve got a beautiful mash ready for me.” 

“Sausage dumpling and apple turnover!’ 5 shout¬ 
ed the boy, which set them all laughing. I 
was led into a comfortable, clean-smelling stall 
with plenty of dry straw, and after a capital 
supper I lay down, thinking I was going to be 
happy. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 


A LONDON CAB HORSE. 


My new master’s name was Jeremiah Barker, 
but as everyone called him Jerry, I shall do the 
same. Polly, his wife, was just as good a match 
as a man could have. She was a plump, trim, 
tidy little woman, with smooth, dark hair, dark 
eyes, and a merry little mouth. The boy was 
nearly twelve years old, a tall, frank, good-tem¬ 
pered lad; and little Dorothy (Dolly they called 
her) was her mother over again at eight years 
old. They were all wonderfully fond of each 






















































































































































152 


BLACK BEAUTY 


other; I never knew such a happy, merry family 
before or since. Jerry had a cab of his own, and 
two horses, which he drove and attended to him¬ 
self. His other horse was a tall, white, rather 
large-boned animal, called “Captain.” He was 
old now, but when he was young he must have 
been splendid; he had still a proud way of holding 
his head and arching his neck; in fact, he was 
a high-bred, fine-mannered, noble old horse, 
every inch of him. He told me that in his early 
youth he went to the Crimean War; he belonged 
to an officer in the cavalry, and used to lead the 
regiment. I will tell more of that hereafter. 

The next morning, when I was well groomed, 
Polly and Dolly came into the yard to see me 
and make friends. Harry had been helping his 
father since the early morning, and had stated 
his opinion that I should turn out “a regular 
brick.” Polly brought me a slice of apple, 
and Dolly a piece of bread, and made as much 
of me as if I had been the “Black Beauty” of olden 
time. It was a great treat to be petted again 
and talked to in a gentle voice, and I let them 
see as well as I could that I wished to be friendly. 
Polly thought I was very handsome, and too 
good for a cab, if it was not for the broken knees. 

“There’s no one to tell us whose fault that 
was,” said Jerry, “and as long as I don’t know 
I shall give him the benefit of the doubt; for a 
firmer, neater stepper I never rode. We’ll call 
him ‘Jack,’ after the Colonel—shall we, r Polly?” 

“Do,” she said, “for I like to keep a good name 
going.” 


BLACK BEAUTY 


153 


Captain went out in the cab all the morning. 
Harry came in after school to feed me and give 
me water. In the afternoon I was put into the 
cab. Jerry took as much pains to see if the collar 
and bridle fitted comfortably as if he had been 
John Manly over again. When the crupper was 
let out a hole or two, it all fitted well. There 
was no check-rein, no curb, nothing but a plain 
ring snaffle. What a blessing that was! 

After driving through the side street we came 
to the large cab stand where Jerry had said “Good¬ 
night.” On one side of this wide street were 
high houses with wonderful shop fronts, and on 
the other was an old church and church-yard, 
surrounded by iron palisades. Alongside these 
iron rails a number of cabs were drawn up, wait¬ 
ing for passengers; bits of hay were lying about 
on the ground; some of the men were standing 
together talking; some were sitting on their 
boxes reading the newspapers; and one or two 
were feeding their horses with bits of hay, and 
giving them a drink of water. We pulled up in 
the rank at the back of the last cab. Two or 
three men came round and began to look at me 
and pass their remarks. 

“Very good for a funeral,” said one. 

“Too smart-looking,” said another, shaking 
his head in a very wise way; “you’ll find, out 
something wrong one of these fine mornings, 
or my name isn’t Jones.” 

“Well,” said Jerry pleasantly, “I suppose I 
need not find it out till it finds me out, eh? And 
if so, I’ll keep up my spirits a little longer.” 




154 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Then there came up a broad-faced man, dressed 
in a great gray coat with gray capes and great 
white buttons, a gray hat, and a blue comforter 
loosely tied around his neck; his hair was gray, too; 
but he was a jolly looking fellow, and the other 
men made way for him. He looked me all over, 
as if he had been going to buy me, and then 
straightening himself up with a grunt, he said, 
“He’s the right sort for you, Jerry; I don’t care 
what you gave for him, he’ll be worth it.” Thus 
my character was established on the stand. 

This man’s name was Grant, but he was called 
“Gray Grant,” or “Governor Grant.” He had 
been the longest on that stand of any of the men, 
and he took it upon himself to settle matters 
and stop disputes. He was generally a good- 
humored, sensible man; but if his temper was a 
little out, as it was sometimes when he had 
drunk too much, nobody liked to come too near 
his fist, for he could deal a very heavy blow. 

The first week of my life as a cab horse was 
trying. I had never been used to London, and 
the noise, the hurry, the crowds of horses, 
carts and carriages, that I had to make my way 
through, made me feel anxious and harassed; but 
I soon found that I could trust my driver, and 
then I made myself easy, and got used to it. 

Jerry was as good a driver as I had ever known, 
and what was better, he took as much thought 
for his horses as he did for himself. He soon found 
out that I was willing to work and he never 
laid the whip on me, unless it was gently drawing 
the end of it over my back, when I was to go on; 





BLACK BEAUTY 


155 



but generally I knew this quite well by the way 
in which he took up the reins; and I believe 
his whip was more frequently stuck up by his 
side than in his hand. 

In a short time I and my master understood 
each other as well as horse and man can do. In 
the stable he did all that he could for our com¬ 
fort. The stalls were the old-fashioned style, 
too much on the slope; but he had two movable 
bars fixed across the back of our stalls, so that at 
night, when we were resting, he just took off 
our halters and put up the bars, and thus we 
could turn and stand whichever way we pleased, 
which is a great comfort. 

Jerry kept us very clean, and gave us as much 
change of food as he could, and always plenty of 
it; and not only that, but he always gave us plenty 
of clean, fresh water, which he allowed to stand 
by us both night and day, except, of course, when 
we came in warm. Some people say that a horse 
ought not to drink all he likes; but I know if we 
are allowed to drink when we want it we drink 
only a little at a time, and it does us a great deal 
more good than swallowing down half a bucket¬ 
ful at a time, because we have been left without 
it till we are thirsty and miserable. Some 
grooms will go home to their beer and leave us 
for hours with our dry hay and oats and nothing 
to moisten them; then of course we gulp down too 
much at once, which helps to spoil our breathing 
and sometimes chills our stomachs. But the best 
thing that we had here was our Sundays for rest. 
We worked so hard in the week that I do not 


156 


BLACK BEAUTY 


think we could have kept up to it but for that day; 
besides, we had time to enjoy each other’s com¬ 
pany. It was on these days that I learned my 
companion’s history. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

AN OLD WAR HORSE. 

Captain had been broken in and trained for 
an army horse; his first owner was an officer of 
cavalry going out to the Crimean War. He said 
he quite enjoyed the training with all the other 
horses, trotting together, turning .together, to 
the right hand or the left, halting at the word of 
command, or dashing forward at full speed at 
the sound of the trumpet or signal of the officer. 
He was, when young, a dark, dappled iron gray, 
and considered very handsome. His master, 
a young, high-spirited gentleman, was very fond 
of him, and treated him from the first with 
the greatest care and kindness. He told me 
he thought the life of an army horse was very 
pleasant; but when it came to being sent abroad 
over the sea in a great ship, he almost changed 
his mind. 

“That part of it,” said he, “was dreadful! Of 
course we could not walk off the land into the 
ship; so they were obliged to put strong straps 
under our bodies, and then we were lifted off our 
legs in spite of our struggles and were swung 
through the air over the water to the deck of 
the great vessel. There we were placed in small, 
close stalls, and never for a long time saw the 











BLACK BEAUTY 


157 



sky, or were able to stretch our legs. The ship 
sometimes rolled about in high winds, and we 
were knocked about, and felt badly enough. 
At last it came to an end, and we were hauled 
up and swung over again to the land; we were 
very glad, and snorted and neighed for joy when 
we once more felt firm ground under our feet. 

“We soon found that the country we had 
come to was very different from our own, and that 
we had many hardships to endure besides the 
fighting; but many of the men were so fond of 
their horses that they did everything they 
could to make them comfortable, in spite of 
snow, wet, and all things out of order.” 

“But what about the fighting?” said I; “was 
not that worse than anything else?” 

“Well,” said he, “I hardly know; we always 
liked to hear the trumpet sound, and to be called 
out, and were impatient to start off, though 
sometimes we had to stand for hours, waiting 
for the word of command; and when the word 
was given, we used to spring forward as gaily 
and eagerly as if there were no cannon-balls, bay¬ 
onet" T — ~~ 1 - 

our 
on t 
ever 
the 

“1 

acti< 

I S£ 

thro 

sabr 

i 









158 


BLACK BEAUTY 


field, or dying in the agony of their wounds, 
I don’t think I feared for myself. My master’s 
cheery voice, as he encouraged his men, made 
me feel as if he and I could not be killed. I had 
such perfect trust in him that while he was 
guiding me I was ready to charge up to the very 
cannon’s mouth. I saw many brave men cut 
down, many fall mortally wounded from their 
saddles. I have heard the cries and groans of 
the dying, I have cantered over ground slippery 
with blood, and frequently had to turn aside to 
avoid trampling on a wounded man or horse, 
but, until one dreadful day, I had never felt ter¬ 
ror; that day I shall never forget.” 

Here old Captain paused for a while and drew 
a long breath; I waited, and he went on. 

“It was one autumn morning, and, as usual, 
an hour before daybreak our cavalry had turned 
out, ready caparisoned for the day’s work, whether 
it might be fighting or waiting. The men stood 
by their horses waiting, ready for orders. As 
the light increased there seemed to be some 
excitement among the officers, and before the 
day was well begun we heard the firing of the 
enemy’s guns. 

“Then one of the officers rode up and gave the 
word for the men to mount, and in a second every 
man was in his saddle, and every horse stood 
expecting the touch of the rein or the pressure 
of his rider’s heels, all animated, all eager; but still 
we had been trained so well that, except by the 
champing of our bits and the restive tossing of 
our heads, it could not be said that we stirred. 


BLACK BEAUTY 


159 



“My dear master and I were at the head of 
the line, and as all sat motionless and watehful, 
he took a little stray lock of my mane which had 
turned over on the wrong side, laid it over on the 
right, and smoothed it down with his hand; then 
patting my neck, he said, £ We shall have a day of 
it to-day, Bayard, my beauty; but we’ll do our 
duty as we have done.’ He stroked my 
neck that morning more, I think, than he had 
ever done before; quietly on and on, as if he were 
thinking of something else. I loved to feel his 
hand on my neck, and arched my crest proudly 
and happily; but I stood very still, for I knew 
all his moods, and when he liked me to be quiet, 
and when gay. 

“I cannot tell all that happened on that day, 
but I will tell of the last charge that we made 
together; it was across a valley right in front of 
the enemy’s cannon. By this time we were well 
used to the roar of heavy guns, the rattle of musk¬ 
etry fire, and the flying of shot near us; but never 
had I been under such a fire as we rode through 
on that day. From the right, from the left, and 
from the front, shot and shell poured in upon us. 
Many a brave man went down, many a horse fell, 
fl inging his rider to the earth; many a horse 
without a rider ran wildly out of the ranks; then, 
terrified at being alone, with 110 hand to guide 
him, came pressing in among his old companions, 
to gallop with them to the charge. 

“Fearful as it was, no one stopped, no one 
turned back. Every moment the ranks were 
thinned, but as our comrades fell we closed in 



160 


BLACK BEAUTY 


to keep them together; and instead of being 
shaken or staggered in our pace, our gallop became 
faster and faster, as we neared the cannon, 
all clouded in white smoke, while the red fire 
flashed through it. 

“My master, my dear master, was cheering 
on his comrades with his right arm raised on high, 
when one of the balls whizzing close to my head 
struck him. I felt him stagger with the shock, 
though he uttered no cry; I tried to check my 
speed, but the sword dropped from his right hand, 
the rein fell loose from the left, and sinking 
backward from the saddle, he fell to the earth; 
the other riders swept past us, and by the force 
of their charge I was driven from the spot where 
he fell. 

“I wanted to keep my place by his side and 
not leave him under that rush of horses' feet, 
but it was in vain; and now, without a master 
or a friend, I was alone on that great slaughter- 
ground. Then fear took hold of me, and I 
trembled as I had never trembled before; and I, 
too, as I had seen other horses do, tried to join 
the ranks and gallop with them; but I was beaten 
off by the swords of the soldiers. Just then, 
a soldier whose horse had been killed under him 
caught at my bridle and mounted me, and with 
this new master I was again going forward; but 
our gallant company was cruelly overpowered, 
and those who remained alive after the fierce 
fight for the guns came galloping back over the 
same ground. Some of the horses had been so 
badly wounded that they could scarcely move 



BLACK BEAUTY 


161 


from the loss of blood ; other noble creatures were 
trying on three legs to drag themselves along, 
and others were struggling to rise on their fore¬ 
feet, when their hind legs had been shattered 
by shot. Their groans were piteous to hear, 
and the beseeching look in their eyes as those 
who escaped passed by, and left them to their 
fate, I shall never forget. After the battle the 
wounded men were brought in, and the dead 
were buried.” 

“And what about the wounded horses?” I said; 
“were they left to die?” 

“No, the army farriers went over the field 
with their pistols and shot all that were ruined; 
some that had only slight wounds were brought 
back and attended to, but the greater part of the 
noble, willing creatures that went out that morn¬ 
ing never came back! In our stables there was 
only about one in four that returned. 

“I never saw my dear master again. I be¬ 
lieve he fell dead from the saddle. I never 
loved any other master so well. I went into 
many other engagements, but was only once 
wounded, and then not seriously; and when 
the war was over I came back again to England, 
as sound and strong as when I went out.” 

I said, “I have heard people talk about war 
as if it was a very fine thing.” 

“Ah!” said he, “I should think they never 
saw it. No doubt it is very fine when there is 
no enemy, when it is just exercise and parade, 
and sham fight. Yes, it is fine then; but when 
thousands of good, brave men and horses are 



162 


BLACK BEAUTY 





killed or crippled for life, it has a different lodK” 
“Do you know what they fought aboutV- 1 said I. 
“No,” he said, “that is more than a horse 
can understand; but the enemy must have been 
awfully wicked people, if it was right to go all 
that way over the sea on purpose to kill them. 2 ? 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

JERRY BARKER. 

I never knew a better man than my new 
master. He was kind and good, and as strong 
for the right as John Manly; and so good-tem¬ 
pered and merry, that very few people could pick 
a quarrel with him. He was very fond of mak¬ 
ing little songs, and singing them to himself. One 
he was very fond of was this: 

“Come, father and mother. 

And sister and brother. 

Come all of you, turn to 
And help one another.” 

And so they did; Harry was as clever at stable- 
work as a much older boy, and always wanted 
to do what he could. Then Polly and Dolly 
used to come in the morning to help with the 
cab—to brush and beat the cushions, and rub the 
glass, while Jerry was giving us a cleaning in 
the yard, and Harry was rubbing the harness. 









BLACK BEAUTY 163 

There used to be a deal of laughing and fun 
between them, and it put Captain and me in 
much better spirits than if we had heard scolding 
and hard words. They were always up early 
in the morning, for Jerry would say: 

“If you in the morning 
Throw mmutes away, 

You can’t pick them up 
In the course of the day; 

You may hurry and scurry. 

And ^ flurry and worry, 

You’ve lost them forever, 

Forever and aye.” 

He could not bear any careless loitering and 
waste of time; and nothing was so near making 
him angry as to find people, who were always 
late, wanting a cab horse to be driven hard, to 
make up for their idleness. 

One day two wild-looking young men came 
out of a tavern close by the stand and called 
Jerry. 

“Here, cabby! look sharp, we are rather late; 
put on the steam, will you, and take us to the 
Victoria in time for the one o'clock train? You 
shall have a shilling extra.'' 

“I will take you at the regular pace, gentlemen; 
shillings don't pay for putting on steam like that." 

Larry's cab was standing next to ours; he flung 
open the door and said, “I'm your man, gentle¬ 
men! take my cab; my horse will get you there 
all right;" and as he shut them in with a wink 
toward Jerry, said, “It's against his conscience 
to go beyond a jog-trot." Then slashing his 
jaded horse, he set off as hard as he could. Jerry 









164 


BLACK BEAUTY 


patted me on the neck: “No, Jack, a shilling 
would not pay for that sort of thing—would it, 
old boy?” 

Although Jerry was set against hard driving 
to. please careless people, he always went a good, 
fair pace, and was not against putting on the 
steam, as he said, if only he knew why. I re¬ 
member one morning, as we were on the stand 
waiting for a fare, that a young man, carrying 
a heavy portmanteau, trod on a piece of orange 
peel which lay on the pavement, and fell down 
with great force. 

Jerry was the first to run and lift him up. He 
seemed much stunned, and as they led him into 
a shop he walked as if he were in great pain. 
Jerry, of course, came back to the stand, but in 
about ten minutes one of the shop men called 
him, so we drew up to the pavement. 

“Can you take me to the South-Eastern Rail¬ 
way?” said the young man; “this unlucky fall 
has made me late, I fear; but it is of great im¬ 
portance that I should not lose the twelve o’clock 
train. I should be most thankful if you could 
get me there in time, and will gladly pay you 
an extra fare.” 

“I’ll do my very best,” said Jerry heartily. 
“If you think you are well enough, sir,” for he 
looked dreadfully white and ill. “I must go,” 
he said earnestly; “please to open the door, and 
let us lose no time.” The next minute Jerry was 
on the box, with a cheery chirrup to me and a 
twitch of the rein that I well understood. “Now, 
then, Jack, my boy,” said he, “spin along; we’ll 



BLACK BEAUTY 


165 

show them how we can get over the ground if we 
only know why.” 

It is always difficult to drive fast in the city 
in the middle of the day, when the streets are full 
of traffic, but we did what could be done; and 
when a good driver and a good horse, who under¬ 
stand each other, are of one mind, it is wonderful 
what they can do. I had a very good mouth— 
that is, I could be guided by the slightest touch 
of the rein; and that is a great thing in London, 
among carriages, omnibuses, carts, vans, trucks, 
cabs, and great wagons creeping along at a walk¬ 
ing pace; some going one way, some another, 
some going slowly, others wanting to pass them; 
omnibuses stopping short every few minutes 
to take up a passenger, obliging the horse that is 
coming to pull up too, or to pass, and get before 
them; perhaps you try to pass, but just then 
something else comes dashing in through the 
narrow opening, and you have to keep in behind 
the omnibus again; presently you think you see 
a chance and manage to get to the front, getting 
so near the wheels on each side that half an inch 
nearer and they would scrape. Well—you get 
along for a bit, but soon find yourself in a long 
train of carts and carriages all obliged to go at a 
walk; perhaps you come to a regular block-up, 
and have to stand still for minutes together, till 
something clears out into a side street or the 
policeman interferes; you have to be ready for 
any chance—to dash forward if there be an open¬ 
ing, and be quick as a rat dog to see if there be 
room and if there be time, lest you get your 



166 


BLACK BEAUTY 



own wheels locked or smashed, or the shaft of 
some other vehicle run into your chest or shoul¬ 
der. All this is what you have to be ready for. 
If you want to get through London fast in the 
middle of the day, it wants a deal of practice. 

Jerry and I were used to it, and no one could 
beat us at getting through when we were set upon 
it. I was quick and bold and could trust my 
driver; Jerry was quick and patient at the same 
and could trust his horse, 'which was a 
too. He seldom used the whip; 
voice, and his click, click, when he 
d to get on fast, and by the rein where 
to go; so there was no need for whipping. 
I must go back to my story. The streets 
full that day, but we got on pretty 
as the bottom of Cheapside, where 
a block for three or four minutes, 
young man put his head out and said, “I 
think I had better get out and walk; I shall never 
there if this goes on.” 

’ll do all that can be done, sir,” said Jerry; 

we shall be in time; this block-up cannot 
much longer, and your luggage is very heavy 
you to carry, sir.” Just then the cart in front 
to move on, and then we had a good 
nd out—in and out we went, as fast 
flesh could do it, and for a wonder had a 
clear time on London Bridge, for there was 
a whole train of cabs and carriages, all going 
way at a quick trot—perhaps wanting to catch 
t very train; at any rate, we whirled into 
station, with many more, just as the great 



BLACK BEAUTY 


167 

clock pointed to eight minutes to twelve o’clock. 

“Thank God! we are in time,” said the young 
man, “and thank you, too, my friend and your 
good horse; you have saved me more than money 
can ever pay for; take this extra half-crown.” 

“No, sir, no, thank you all the same; so glad 
we hit the time, sir; but don’t stay now, sir, 
the bell is ringing. Here, porter! take this gen¬ 
tleman’s luggage — Dover line — twelve o’clock 
train—that’s it,” and without waiting for another 
word, Jerry wheeled me round to make room for 
other cabs that were dashing up at the last minute, 
and drew up on one side till the crush was passed. 

“So glad!” he said, “so glad! poor young fellow! 
I wonder what it was that made him so anxious?” 

Jerry often talked to himself quite loud enough 
for me to hear, when we were not moving. 

On Jerry’s return to the rank, there was a 
good deal of laughing and chaffing at him for 
driving hard to the train for an extra fare, as 
they said, all against his principles, and they 
wanted to know how much he had pocketed. 

“A good deal more than I generally get,” said 
he, nodding slyly; “what he gave me will keep 
me in little comforts for several days.” 

“Gammon!” said one. 

“He’s a humbug,” said another, “preaching 
to us and then doing the same himself.” 

“Look here, mates,” said Jerry, “the gentle¬ 
man offered me half a crown extra, but I didn’t 
take it; ’twas pay enough for me to see how glad 
he was to catch that train; and if Jack and I choose 
to have a quick run now and then, to please 

12 










168 


BLACK BEAUTY 


ourselves, that’s our business, not yours.” 

"Well,” said Larry, “you’ll never be a rich man.” 

"Most likely not,” said Jerry, "but I don’t 
know that I shall be the less happy for that. 
I have heard the Commandments read a great 
many times, and I never noticed that any of 
them said Thou shalt be rich’; and there are a 
good many curious things said in the New Testa¬ 
ment about rich men that I think would make 
me feel rather queer if I was one of them.” 

“If you ever do get rich,” said Governor Gray, 
looking over his shoulder across the top of his 
cab, "you’ll deserve it, Jerry, and you won’t 
find a curse come with your wealth. As for you, 
Larry, you’ll die poor; you spend too much in 
whipcord.’’ 

"Well,” said Larry, "what is a fellow to do if 
his horse won’t go without it?” 

“You never take the trouble to see if he will 
go^without it; your whip is always going as if you 
had the St. Vitus’ dance in your arm; and if it 
does not wear you out it wears your horse out. 
You know you are always changing your horses, 
and why? because you never give them any peace 
or encouragement.” 

“Well, I have not had good luck,” said Larry; 
“that’s where it is.” 

"And you never will,” said the Governor. 
“Good Luck is rather particular whom she rides 
with, and prefers those who have common sense 
and a good heart; at least, that is my experience.” 
Governor Gray turned round again to his news¬ 
paper, and the other men went to their cabs. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE SUNDAY CAB. 

One morning as Jerry had just put me into 
the shafts and was fastening the traces a gen¬ 
tleman walked into the yard. “Your servant, 
sir,” said Jerry. 

“Good-morning, Barker,” said the gentleman. 
“I should be glad to make some arrangements 
with you for taking Mrs. Briggs regularly to 
church on Sunday mornings. We go to the New 
Church now, and that is rather further than she 
can walk.” 

“Thank you, sir,” said Jerry, “but I have 
only taken out a six-days’ license, and therefore 
I could not take a fare on a Sunday; it would 
not be legal.” 

“Oh!” said the other, “I did not know yours 
was a six-days’ cab; but of course it would be very 
easy to alter your license. I would see that you 
did not lose by it. The fact is, Mrs. Briggs very 
much prefers you to drive her.” 

“I should be glad to oblige the lady, sir, but 
I had a seven-days’ license once, and the work 



169 



170 


BLACK BEAUTY 





was too hard for me, and too hard for my horses. 
Year in and year out, not a day’s rest, and never 
a Sunday with my wife and children; and never 
able to go to a place of worship, which I had 
always been used to do before I took the driving 
box. So for the last five years I have only taken 
a six-days’ license; I find it better all the way 
round.” 

“Well,” replied Mr. Briggs, “it is proper that 
every person should have rest, and be able to 
go to church on Sundays, but I should have 
thought that you would not have minded such a 
short distance for the horse, and only once a day; 
you would have all the afternoon and evening 
for yourself; and we are good customers, you 
know.” 

“Yes, sir, that is true, and I am grateful for 
all favors, I am sure, and anything that I could 
do to oblige you or the lady I should be proud 
and happy to do; but I can’t give up my Sundays, 
sir, indeed I can’t. I read that God made man, 
and He made horses, and all the other beasts, 
and as soon as He made them He made a day of 
rest, and bade that all should rest one day In 
seven; and I think, sir, He must have known what 
was good for them, and I am sure it is good for 
me; I am stronger and healthier altogether, now 
that I have a day of rest; the horses are fresh, 
too, and do not wear out nearly so fast. The six- 
day drivers all tell me the same, and I have laid 
by more money in the Savings Bank than ever I 
did before; and as for the wife and children, sir, 
why, heart alive! they would not go back to the 






BLACK BEAUTY 


171 


seven days of work for all they could see.” 

“Oh, very well,” said the gentleman. “Don’t 
trouble yourself, Barker, any further. I will 
inquire somewhere else;” and he walked away. 

“Well,” says Jerry to me, “we can’t help it. Jack, 
old boy; we must have our Sundays. Polly!” 
he shouted, “Polly! come here.” 

She was there in a minute. “What is it all 
about, Jerry?” 

“Why, my dear, Mr. Briggs wants me to take 
Mrs. Briggs to church every Sunday morning. 
I say, I have only a six-days’ license. He says, 
‘Get a seven-days’ license, and I’ll make it worth 
your while;’- and you know, Polly, they are very 
good customers to us. Mrs. Briggs often goes 
out shopping for hours, or making calls, and then 
she pays down fair and honorable like a lady; 
there’s no beating down, or making three hours 
into two hours and a half, as some folks do; and 
it is easy work for the horses; not like tearing 
along to catch trains for people that are always 
a quarter of an hour too late; and if I don’t oblige 
her in this matter it is very likely we shall lose 
them altogether. What do you say, little wo¬ 
man?” 

“I say, Jerry,” says she, speaking very slowly, 
“I say, if Mrs. Briggs would give you a sovereign 
every Sunday morning I would not have you a 
seven-days’ cabman again. We have known what 
it was to have no Sundays, and now we know 
what it is to call them our own. _ Thank God, 
you earn enough to keep us, though it is sometimes 
close work to pay for all the oats and hay, the 


172 


BLACK BEAUTY 


license, and the rent besides; but Harry will soon 
be earning something, and I would rather struggle 
on harder than we do than go back to those 
horrid times when you hardly had a minute to 
look at your own children, and we never could 
go to a place of worship together, or have a quiet, 
happy day. God forbid that we should ever 
turn back to those times; that's what I say, 
Jerry.” 

“And that is what I told Mr. Briggs,” said 
Jerry, “and what I mean to stick to; so don't go 
and fret yourself, Polly (for she had begun to cry) ; 
I would not go back to the old times if I earned 
twice as much; so that is settled, little woman; 
cheer up. Now I'll be off to the stand.” 

Three weeks had passed away after this conver¬ 
sation, and no order had come from Mrs. Briggs, 
so there was nothing but taking jobs from the 
stand. Jerry took it to heart a good deal, for, 
of course, the work was harder for horse and man; 
but Polly would always cheer him up and say, 
“Never mind, father, never mind. 

“ ‘Do your best, 

And leave the rest; 

’Twill all come right 
Some day or night/ ” 

It soon become known that Jerry had lost 
his best customer, and for what reason; most of 
the men said he was a fool, but two or three 
took his part. 

“If workingmen don't stick to their Sunday,” 
said Truman, “they'll soon have none left; it is 
every man's right and every beast's right . By 










BLACK BEAUTY 


173 


God’s law we have a day of rest, and hy the law of 
England we have a day of rest; and I say we ought 
to hold to the rights these laws give us, and keep them 
for our children.”- 

“All very well for you religious chaps to talk 
so,” said Larry, “but I’ll turn a shilling when I 
can. I don’t believe in religion, for I don’t see 
that your religious people are any better than 
the rest.” 

“If they are not better,” put in Jerry, “it is 
because they are not religious. You might as 
well say that our country’s laws are not good 
because some people break them. If a man gives 
way to his temper, and speaks evil of his neigh¬ 
bor, and does not pay his debts, he is not religious, 
I don’t care how much he goes to church. If 
some men are shams and humbugs, that does not 
make religion untrue. Real religion is the best 
and the truest thing in the world, and the only 
thing that can make a man really happy, or 
make the world any better.” 

“If religion was good for anything,” said Jones, 
“it would prevent your religious people from 
making us work on Sundays, as you know many 
of them do, and that’s why I say religion is 
nothing but a sham; why, if it was not for the 
church and chapel-goers it would be hardly worth 
while our coming out on a Sunday; but they have 
their privileges, as they call them, and I go 
without. I shall expect them to answer for my 
soul, if I can’t get a chance of saving it.” 

Several of the men applauded this, till Jerry 
said. 


174 


BLACK BEAUTY 








“That may sound well enough, but it won't 
do; every man must look after his own soul; you 
can't lay it down at another man's door like a 
foundling, and expect him to take care of it; and, 
don't you see, if you are always sitting on your 
box waiting for a fare, they will say, Tf we don't 
take him someone else will, and he does not 
look for any Sunday.' Of course they don't 
go to the bottom of it, or they would see if they 
never came for a cab it would be no use your 
standing there; but people don't always like to 
go to the bottom of things; it may not be con¬ 
venient to do it; but if you Sunday drivers would 
all strike for a day of rest, the thing would be 
done." 

“And what would all the good people do if 
they could not get to their favorite preachers?" 
said Larry. 

“ 'Tis not for me to lay down plans for other 
people," said Jerry, “but if they can't walk so far, 
they can go to what is nearer; and if it should 
rain they can put on their mackintoshes, as they 
do on a week-day. If a thing is right, it can be 
done, and if it is wrong, it can be done without; 
and a good man will find a way; and that is as 
true for us cabmen as it is for the church-goers." 





BLACK BEAUTY 175 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THE GOLDEN RULE. 

Two or three weeks after this, as we came 
into the yard rather late in the evening, Polly 
came running across the road with the lantern 
(she always brought it to him if it was not very 
wet). “It has all come right, Jerry; Mrs. Briggs 
sent her servant this afternoon to ask you to take 
her out to-morrow at eleven o’clock. I said, 
‘Yes, I thought so, but we supposed she employed 
someone else now.’ ” 

“ ‘Well,’ he said, ‘master was put out because 
Barker refused to come on Sundays, and he has 
been trying other cabs, but there’s something 
wrong with them all; some drive too fast, and some 
too slow, and the mistress says there is not one 
of them so nice and clean as yours, and nothing 
will suit her but Barker’s cab again.’ ” 

Polly was almost out of breath, and Jerry 
broke out into a merry laugh. “ ‘ ’Twill all come 
right some day or night;’ you were right, my dear; 
you generally are. Run in and get the supper 
and I’ll have Jack’s harness off and make him 
snug and happy in no time.” 

After this, Mrs. Briggs wanted Jerry’s cab 
quite as often as before, never, however, on a 
Sunday; but there came a day when he had 
Sunday work, and this was how it happened. 
We had all come home on the Saturday night 
very tired, and very glad to think that the next 
day would be all rest, but so it was not to be. 

On Sunday morning Jerry was cleaning me 







176 


BLACK BEAUTY 


when Polly stepped up to him, looking very full 
of something. “What is it?” said Jerry. 

“Well, my dear,” she said, “poor Dinah Brown 
has just had a letter brought to say that her mother 
is dangerously ill, and that she must go directly 
if she wishes to see her alive. The place is more 
than ten miles away from here, out in the country, 
and she says if she takes the train she should still 
have four miles to walk; and so weak as she is, 
and the baby only four weeks old, of course 
that would be impossible; and she wants to know 
if you would take her in your cab, and she prom¬ 
ises to pay you faithfully, as she can get the 
money.” 

“Tut, tut! we’ll see about that. It was not 
the money I was thinking about, but of losing 
our Sunday; the horses are tired, and I am tired, 
too—that’s where it pinches.” 

“It pinches all round, for that matter,” said 
Polly, “for it’s only half Sunday without you, 
but you know we should do to other people 
as we should like they should do to us; and I know 
very well what I should like if my mother was 
dying; and Jerry, I am sure it won’t break the 
Sabbath; for if pulling a poor beast out of a pit 
would not spoil it, I am quite sure taking poor 
Dinah would not do it.” 

“Why, Polly, you are as good as the minister, 
and so, as I’ve had my Sunday morning sermon 
early today, you may go and tell Dinah that I’ll 
be ready for her as the clock strikes ten; but stop 
—just stop round to butcher Braydon’s with my 
compliments, and ask him if he would lend me 






BLACK BEAUTY 


his light trap; I know he never uses it on the Sun¬ 
day, and it would make a wonderful difference 
to the horse.” 

Away she went, and soon returned, saying that 
he could have the trap and welcome. “All right,” 
said he; “now put me up a bit of bread and cheese, 
and I’ll be back in the afternoon as soon as I 
can.” 

“And I’ll have the meat-pie ready for an early 
tea instead of for dinner,” said Polly; and away 
she went, while he made his preparations to the 
tune of “Polly’s the woman and no mistake,” 
of which tune he was very fond. 

I was selected for the journey, and at ten 
o'clock we started in a light, high-wheeled gig, 
which ran so easily that after the four-wheeled 
cab it seemed like nothing. 

It was a fine May day, and as soon as we were 
out of the town, the sweet air, the smell of the 
fresh grass and the soft country roads were as 
pleasant as they used to be in the old 
and I soon began to feel quite fresh. 

Dinah’s family lived in a small farm-house, 
a green lane, close by a meadow with some 
shady trees; there were two cows feeding in it. 
A young man asked Jerry to bring his trap 
the meadow, and he would tie me up in the cow¬ 
shed; he wished he had a better stable to offer. 

“If your cows would not be offended,” 
Jerry, “there is nothing my horse would like so 
well as to have an hour or two in your beautiful 
meadow; he’s quiet, and it would be a rare treat 
for him.” 


178 


BLACK BEAUTY 



"Do, and welcome,” said the young man; 
“the best we have is at your service for your 
ki n dness to my sister; we shall be having some 
dinner in an hour, and I hope you’ll come in, 
though with mother so ill we are all out of sorts 
in the house.” Jerry thanked him kindly but 
said, as he had some dinner with him, there was 
nothing he should like so well as walking about 
in the meadow. 

When my harness was taken off I did not know 
what I should do first—whether to eat the grass, 
or roll over on my back, or lie down and rest, or 
have a gallop across the meadow out of sheer 
spirits at being free; and I did all by turns. 
Jerry seemed to be quite as happy as I was; he 
sat down by a bank under a shady tree, and list¬ 
ened to the birds, then he sang himself, and read 
out of the little brown book he is so fond of, then 
around the meadow and down by a 
brook, where he picked the flowers and the 
hawthorn, and tied them up with long sprays of 
hen he gave me a good feed of the oats 
he had brought with him; but the time 
all too short—I had not been in a field 
I left poor Ginger at Earlshall. 

We came home gently, and Jerry’s first words 
were, as we came into the yard, “Well, Polly, 
have not lost my Sunday after all, for the birds 
were singing hymns in every bush, and I joined 
the service; and as for Jack, he was like a young 
colt.” When he handed Dolly the flowers, she 
about for joy. 









CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

DOLLY AND A REAL GENTLEMAN. 

The winter came in early, with a great deal of 
cold and wet. There was snow, or sleet, or rain, 
almost every day for weeks, changing only for 
keen driving winds or sharp frosts. The horses 
all felt it very much. When it is a dry cold, a 
couple of good thick rugs will keep the warmth 
in us; but when it is soaking rain, they soon 
get wet through and are no good. Some of 
the drivers had a waterproof cover to throw over, 
which was a fine thing; but some of the men 
were so poor that they could not protect either 
themselves or their horses, and many of them suf¬ 
fered very much that winter. When we horses 
had worked half the day we went to our dry 
stables and could rest; while they had to sit on 
their boxes, sometimes staying out as late as 
one or two o’clock in the morning, if they had a 
party to wait for. 

When the streets were slippery with frost or 
snow, that was the worst of all for us horses; 
one mile of such traveling with a weight to draw, 
and no firm, footing, would take more out of us 

179 












180 


BLACK BEAUTY 



than four on a good road; every nerve and muscle 
of our bodies is on the strain to keep our balance; 
and the fear of falling is more exhausting than 
anything else. If the roads are very bad in¬ 
deed, our shoes are roughed; but that makes us 
feel nervous at first. 

When the weather was very bad, many of the 
men would go and sit in the tavern close by and 
get someone to watch for them; but they often 
lost a fare in that way, and could not, as Jerry 
said, be there without spending money. He 
never went to the Rising Sun; there was a coffee- 
shop near, where he now and then went, or he 
bought of an old man, who came to our rank with 
tins of hot coffee and pies. It was his opinion 
that spirits and beer made a man colder after¬ 
wards, and that dry clothes, good food, cheer¬ 
fulness, and a comfortable wife at home, were 
the best things to keep a cabman warm. Polly 
always supplied him with something to eat when 
he could not get home, and sometimes he would 
see little Dolly peeping from the corner of the 
street, to make sure if “father” was on the stand. 
If she saw him, she would run off at full speed 
and soon come back with something in a tin or 
basket, some hot soup or pudding that Polly had 
ready. It was wonderful how such a little thing 
could get safely across the street, often thronged 
with horses and carriages; but she was a brave 
little maid, and felt it quite an honor to bring 
course,” as he used to call it. She 
favorite on the stand, and there 
m who would not have seen her 



BLACK BEAUTY 181 

safely across the street if Jerry had not been 
able to do it. 

One cold, windy day, Dolly had brought Jerry 
a basin of something hot, and was standing 
by him while he ate it. He had scarcely begun, 
when a gentleman, walking toward us very fast, 
held up his umbrella. Jerry touched his hat in 
return, gave the basin to Dolly, and was taking 
off my cloth, when the gentleman, hastening up, 
cried out, “No, no, finish your soup, my friend; 
I have not much time to spare, but I can wait 
till you have done, and set your little girl safe 
on the pavement/' So saying, he seated himself 
in the cab. Jerry thanked him kindly and came 
back to Dolly. “There, Dolly, that's a gentleman . 
He has got time and thought for the comfort 
of a poor cabman and a little girl." 

Jerry finished his soup, set the child across, 
and then took his orders to drive to Clapham 
Rise. Several times after that the same gentle¬ 
man took our cab. I think he was very fond of 
dogs and horses, for whenever we took him to 
his own door, two or three dogs would come 
bounding out to meet him. Sometimes he came 
round and patted me, saying in his quiet way: 
“This horse has got a good master, and he de¬ 
serves it." It was a very rare thing for anyone 
to notice the horse that had been working for 
him. I have known ladies to do it now and then, 
and this gentleman and one or two others have 
given me a pat and a kind word; but ninety-nine 
out of a hundred would as soon think of patting 
the steam engine that drew the train. 




182 


BLACK BEAUTY 



This gentleman was not young, and there was 
a forward stoop in his shoulders as if he was 
always going at something. His lips were thin 
and close shut, though they had a very pleasant 
smile; his eye was keen, and there was some¬ 
thing in his jaw, and the motion of his head, that 
made one think he was very determined in any¬ 
thing he set about. His voice was pleasant and 
kind; any horse would trust that voice, though 
it was- just as decided as everything else about 
him. 

One day he and another gentleman took our 

cab; they stopped at a shop in R-Street, and 

while his friend went in, he stood at the door. 
A little ahead of us, on the other side of the street, 
a cart with two very fine horses was standing 
before some wine vaults; the carter was not with 
them, and I cannot tell how long they had been 
standing before they seemed to think they had 
waited long enough and began to move off. Be¬ 
fore they had gone many paces the carter came 
running out and caught them. He seemed furi¬ 
ous at their having moved, and with whip and 
rein punished them brutally, even beating them 
about the head. Our gentleman saw it all, and 
stepping quickly across the street, said in a 
decided voice: 

“If you don’t stop that directly I’ll have you 
arrested for leaving your horses, and for brutal 
conduct.” 

The man, who had clearly been drinking, 
poured forth some abusive language, but he left 
off knocking the horses about, and taking the 





3 ' 


BLACK BEAUTY 


183 


reins got into his cart; meantime our friend had 
quietly taken a notebook from his pocket, and 
looking at the name and address painted on the 
cart, wrote something down. 

“What do you want with that?” growled the 
carter, as he cracked his whip and was moving 
on. A nod and a grim smile was the only an¬ 
swer he got. 

On returning to the cab, our friend was joined 
by his companion, who said, laughingly, “I should 
have thought, Wright, you had enough business 
of your own to look after, without troubling your¬ 
self about other people’s horses and servants.” 

Our friend stood still for a moment, and said, 
“Do you know why this world is as bad as it is?” 

“No,” said the other. 

“Then I’ll tell you. It is because people think 
only about their own business, and won’t trouble 
themselves to stand up for the oppressed, nor bring 
the wrong-doer to light. I never see a wicked 
thing like this without doing what I can, and 
many a master has thanked me for letting him 
know how his horses have been used.” 

“I wish there were more gentlemen like you, 
sir,” said Jerry, “for they are wanted badly enough 
in this city.” 

After this we continued our journey, and as 
they got out of the cab our friend was saying, 
“My doctrine is this, that if we see cruelty or wrong 
that we have the power to stop, and^do nothing, we 
make ourselves sharers in the guilt.” 


13 












CHAPTER XXXIX. 


SEEDY SAM. 


I should say that for a cab horse I was very 
well off indeed; my driver was my owner, and it 
was his interest to treat me well, and not over¬ 
work me, even had he not been so good a man 
as he was; but there were a great many horses 
which belonged to the large cab-owners, who let 
them out to their drivers for so much money a 
day. As the horses did not belong to these 
men, the only thing they thought of was how to 
get their money out of them, first, to pay the 
master, and then to provide for their own living, 
and a dreadful time some of these horses had of it. 
Of course I understood but little, but it was often 
talked over on the stand, and the Governor, 
who was a kind-hearted man, and fond of horses, 
would sometimes speak up if one came in very 
much jaded or ill-used. 

One day a shabby, miserable-looking driver, 
who went by the name of "Seedy Sam/' brought 
in his horse looking dreadfully beat, and the Gover¬ 
nor said, "You and your horse look more fit for 
the police-station than for this rank/* 

The man flung his tattered rug over the horse, 
turned full round upon the Governor, and said 







BLACK BEAUTY 


185 


in a voice that sounded almost desperate, 

“If the police have any business with the matter, 
it ought to be with the masters who charge us so 
much, or with the fares that are fixed so low. 
If a man has to pay eighteen shillings a day for 
the use of a cab and two horses, as many of us 
have to do in the season, and must make up 
that before we earn a penny for ourselves—I 
say ’tis more than hard work; nine shillings a 
day to get out of each horse, before you begin 
to get your own living; you know that’s true, 
and if the horses don’t work we must starve, and 
I and my children have known what that is be¬ 
fore now. I’ve six of ’em, and only one earns 
anything; I am on the stand fourteen or six¬ 
teen hours a day, and I haven’t had a Sunday these 
ten or twelve weeks. You know Skinner never 
gives a day if he can help it; and if I don’t work 
hard, tell me who does? I want a warm coat 
and a mackintosh, but with so many to feed how 
can a man get it? I had to pledge my clock 
a week ago to pay Skinner, and I shall never see 
it again.’’ 

Some of the other drivers stood round nod¬ 
ding their heads, and saying he was right. The 
man went on. 

“You that have your own horses and cabs, 
or drive for good masters, have a chance of getting 
on and a chance of doing right; I haven’t. We 
can’t charge more than sixpence a mile after the 
first, within the four-mile radius. This very 
morning I had to go a clear six miles and only 
took three shillings. I could not get a return 



186 


BLACK BEAUTY 


fare, and had to come all the way back; there’s 
twelve miles for the horse and three shillings for 
me. After that I had a three-mile fare, and 
there were bags and boxes enough to have brought 
in a good many twopences if they had been put 
outside; but you know how people do; all that 
could be piled up inside on the front seat were 
put in, and three heavy boxes went on the top; 
that was sixpence; and the fare one and sixpence; 
then I got a return for a shilling; now that makes 
eighteen miles for the horse and six shillings for 
me; there’s three shillings still for that horse to 
earn, and nine shillings for the afternoon horse 
before I touch a penny. Of course it is not al¬ 
ways as bad as that, but you know it often is, and 
I say ’tis a mockery to tell a man that he must 
not overwork his horse, for when a beast is 
downright tired there’s nothing but the whip 
that will keep his legs a-going; you can’t help 
yourself—you must put your wife and children 
before the horse; the master must look to that, 
we can’t. I don’t ill-use my horse for the sake 
of it; none of you can say I do. There’s wrong 
lays somewhere—never a day’s rest, never a quiet 
hour with the wife and children. I often feel 
like an old man, though I’m only forty-five. 
You know how quick some of the gentry are to 
suspect us of cheating and overcharging; why, 
they stand with their purses in their hands count¬ 
ing it over to a penny, and looking at us as if we 
were pickpockets. I wish some of ’em had got 
to sit on my box sixteen hours a day and get a 
living out of it and eighteen shillings besides, 






BLACK BEAUTY 


187 


and that in all weathers; they would not be 
so uncommon particular never to give us a six¬ 
pence over, or to cram all the luggage inside. 
Of course some of ’em tip us pretty handsome 
now and then, or else we could not live, but you 
can’t depend upon that.” 

The men who stood round much approved 
this speech, and one of them said, “It is desperate 
hard, and if a man sometimes does what is wrong 
it is no wonder, and if he gets a dram too much, 
who’s to blow him up?” 

Jerry had taken no part in this conversation, 
but I never saw his face look so sad before. The 
Governor had stood with both his hands in his 
pockets; now he took his handkerchief out of 
his hat and wiped his forehead. 

“You’ve beaten me, Sam,” he said, “for it’s 
all true, and I won’t cast it up to you any more 
about the police; it was the look in that horse’s 
eye that came over me. It is hard lines for man, 
and it is hard lines for beast, and who’s to mend 
it I don’t know; but anyway you might tell the 
poor beast that you were sorry to take it out 
of him in that way. Sometimes a kind word 
is all we can give ’em, poor brutes, and ’tis wonder¬ 
ful what they do understand.” 

A few mornings after this talk a new man 
came on the stand with Sam’s cab. 

“Halloo!” said one, “what’s up with Seedy 
Sam?” 

“He’s ill in bed,” said the man; “he was taken 
last night in the yard, and could scarcely crawl 
home. His wife sent a boy this morning to say 




188 


BLACK BEAUTY 


his father was in a high fever and could not get 
out; so I’m here instead.” 

The next morning the same man came again. 

‘‘How is Sam?” inquired the Governor. 

“He’s gone,” said the man. 

“What! Gone? You don’t mean to say he’s 
dead?” 

“Just snuffed out,” said the other; ‘‘he died at 
four o’clock this morning; all yesterday he was 
raving—raving about Skinner, and having no 
Sundays. ‘I never had a Sunday’s rest’ were 
his last words.” 

No one spoke for awhile, and then the Gover¬ 
nor said, “I tell you what, mates, this is a warn¬ 
ing for us.” 


CHAPTER XL. 

POOR GINGER. 

One day, while our cab and many others were 
waiting outside one of the parks where music 
was playing, a shabby old cab drove up beside 
ours. The horse was an old, worn-out chestnut, 
with an ill-kept coat, and bones that showed 
plainly through it; the knees knuckled over, and 
the fore-legs were very unsteady. I had been 
eating some hay, and the wind rolled a little of it 
that way, and the poor creature put out her 
long, thin neck and picked it up, and then turned 
round and looked about for more. There was a 
hopeless look in the dull eye that I could not 
help noticing, and then, as I was thinking where 
I had seen that horse before, she looked full at 














BLACK BEAUTY 


189 


me and said, “Black Beauty, is that you?” 

It was Ginger! but how changed! The beau¬ 
tifully arched and glossy neck was now straight 
and lank and fallen in; the clean, straight legs 
and delicate fetlocks were swelled; the joints 
were grown out of shape with hard work; the face 
that was once so full of spirit and life was now 
full of suffering, and I could tell by the heaving 
of her sides, and her frequent cough, how bad her 
breath was. 

Our drivers were standing together a little way 
off, so I sidled up to her a step or two, that we 
might have a little quiet talk. It was a sad tale 
that she had to tell. 

After a twelve-months' run off at Earlshall 
she was considered to be fit for work again, and 
was sold to a gentleman. For a while she got 
on well, but after a longer gallop than usual 
the old strain returned, and after being rested 
and doctored she was again sold. In this way 
she changed hands several times, but always 
getting lower down. 

“And so at last,” said she, “I was bought by 
a man who keeps a number of cabs and horses, 
and lets them out. You look well off, and I am 
glad of it, but I could not tell you what my life 
has been. When they found out my weakness, 
they said I was not worth what they gave for me, 
and that I must go into one of the low cabs , and 
just be used up; that is what they are doing, whip¬ 
ping and working with never one thought of what 
I suffer—they paid for me and must get it out 
of me, they say. The man who hires me now 




190 


BLACK BEAUTY 



pays a deal of money to the owner every day, 
and so he has to get it out of me, too; and so it’s 
all the week round and round, with never a 
Sunday rest.” 

I said, “You used to stand up for yourself if 
you were ill-used.” 

“Ah!” she said, “I did once, but it’s no use; 
men are strongest, and if they are cruel and have 
no feeling, there is nothing that we can do but 
just bear it—bear it on and on to the end. I 
wish the end was come; I wish I was dead. I 
have seen dead horses, and I am sure they do 
not suffer pain. I wish I may drop down dead 
at my work, and not be sent off to the knacker’s.” 

I was very much troubled, and I put my nose 
up to hers, but I could say nothing to comfort 
her. I think she was pleased to see me, for she 
said, “You are the only friend I ever had.” Just 
then her driver came up, and with a tug at her 
mouth backed her out of the line and drove off, 
leaving me very sad indeed. 

A short time after this, a cart with a dead horse 
in it passed our cab-stand. The head hung 
out of the cart-tail, the lifeless tongue was slowly 
dropping with blood, and the sunken eyes! but I 
can’t speak of them; the sight was too dreadful, 
was a chestnut horse with a long, thin neck, 
saw a white streak down the forehead. I 
it was Ginger; I hoped it was, for then 
her troubles would be over. Oh! if men were 
more merciful, they would shoot us before we came 
to such misery. 



I saw a great deal of trouble amongst the 
horses in London, and much of it might have 
been prevented by a little common sense. We 
horses do not mind hard work if we are treated 
reasonably; and I am sure there are many driven 
by quite poor men who have a happier life than 

I had, when I used to go in the Countess of W-’s 

carriage, with my silver-mounted harness and 
high feeding. 

It often went to my heart to see how the little 
ponies were used, straining along with heavy 
loads, or staggering under heavy blows from some 
low, cruel boy. Once I saw a little gray pony 
with a thick mane and a pretty head, and so much 
like Merrylegs, that if I had not been in harness, 
I should have neighed to him. He was doing his 
best to pull a heavy cart, while a strong rough 
boy was cutting him under the belly with his 
whip, and chucking cruelly at his little mouth. 
Could it be Merrylegs? It was just like him; 




.... XflO' 

,, , it if >» 

tflyv'r *" 






BLACK BEAUTY 



192 


but then Mr. Bloomfield was never to sell him, 
and I think he would not do it; but this might 
have been quite as good a little fellow, and had 
as happy a place when he was young. 

I often noticed the great speed at which butch¬ 
ers' horses were made to go, though I did not 
know why it was so, till one day when we had 
to wait some time in St. John’s Wood. There 
was a butcher’s shop next door, and as we were 
standing, a butcher’s cart came dashing up at 
a great pace. The horse was hot, and much ex¬ 
hausted; he hung his head down, while his heav¬ 
ing sides and trembling legs showed how hard 
he had been driven. The lad jumped out of the 
cart and was getting the basket, when the mas¬ 
ter came out of the shop much displeased. After 
looking at the horse, he turned angrily to the 
lad. 

“How many times shall I tell you not to drive 
in this way? You ruined the last horse and broke 
his wind, and you are going to ruin this in the 
same way. If you were not my own son, I would 
dismiss you on the spot; it is a disgrace to have 
a horse brought to the shop in a condition like 
that; you are liable to be taken up by the police 
for such driving, and if you are, you need not look 
to me for bail, for I have spoken to you till I am 
tired; you must look out for yourself.” 

During his speech, the boy had stood by, sullen 
and dogged, but when his father ceased, he 
broke out angrily. It wasn’t his fault, and he 
wouldn’t take the blame, he was only going by 
orders all the time. 





BLACK BEAUTY 


193 


“You always say, ‘Now be quick; now look 
sharp!’ and when I go to the houses, one wants 
a leg of mutton for an early dinner, and I must 
be back with it in a quarter of an hour. Another 
cook has forgotten to order the beef; I must go 
and fetch it and be back in no time, or the mis¬ 
tress will scold; and the housekeeper says they 
have company coming unexpectedly, and must 
have some chops sent up directly; and the lady 
at No. 4, in the Crescent, never orders her dinner 
till the meat comes in for lunch, and it’s nothing 
but hurry, hurry, all the time. If the gentry 
would think of what they want, and order their 
meat the day before, there need not be this blow up!” 

“I wish to goodness they would,” said the 
butcher; “ ’twould save me a wonderful deal 
of harass, and I could suit my customers much 
better if I knew beforehand— But there! what’s 
the use of talking—who ever thinks of a butcher’s 
convenience, or a butcher’s horse? Now, then, 
take him in and look to him well; mind, he does 
not go out again to-day, and if anything else is 
wanted, you must carry it yourself in the basket.” 
With that he went in, and the horse was led 
away. 

But all boys are not cruel. I have seen some 
as fond of their pony or donkey as if it had been 
a favorite dog, and the little creatures have 
worked away as cheerfully and willingly for then- 
young drivers as I work for Jerry. It may 
be hard work sometimes, but a friend’s hand 
and voice make it easy. 

There was a young coster-boy who came 



194 


BLACK BEAUTY 


up our street with greens and potatoes; he had 
an old pony not very handsome, but the cheer- 
fullest and pluckiest little thing I ever saw, 
and to see how fond those two were of each other 
was a treat. The pony followed his master 
like a dog, and when he got into his cart, would 
trot off without a whip or a word, and rattle 
down the street as merrily as if he had come out 
of the Queen’s stables. Jerry liked the boy, 
and called him ‘‘Prince Charlie, 22 for he said he 
would make a king of drivers some day. 

There was an old man, too, who used to come 
up our street with a little coal cart; he wore a 
coal-heaver’s hat, and looked rough and black. 
He and his old horse used to plod together along 
the street, like two good partners who under¬ 
stood each other; the horse would stop of his 
own accord at the doors where they took coal 
of him; he used to keep one ear bent towards 
his master. The old man’s cry could be heard 
up the street long before he came near. I never 
knew what he said, but the children called him 
“Old Ba-a-ar Hoo,” for it sounded like that. 
Polly took her coal of him, and was very friendly, 
and Jerry said it was a comfort to think how happy 
an old horse might be in a poor place. 


CHAPTER XLII. 

THE ELECTION. 

As we'came into the yard one afternoon, Polly 

came out. “Jerry! I’ve had Mr. B- here 

asking about your vote, and he wants to hire 








BLACK BEAUTY 195 

your cab for the election; he will call for an 
answer.” 

“Well, Polly, you may say that my cab will 
be otherwise engaged. I should not like to have 
it pasted over with their great bills; and as to mak¬ 
ing Jack and Captain race about to the public- 
houses to bring up half-drunken voters, why I 
think ’twould be an insult to the horses. No, 
I sha'n’t do it.” 

“I suppose you’ll vote for the gentleman? He 
said he was of your politics.” 

“So he is in some things, but I shall not vote 
for him, Polly; you know what his trade is?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, a man who gets rich by that trade may 
be all very well in some ways, but he is blind 
as to what workingmen want; I could not in my 
conscience send him up to make the laws. I 
dare say they’ll be angry, but every man must 
do what he thinks to be the best for his country.” 

On the morning before the election, Jerry 
was putting me into the shafts, when Dolly came 
into the yard sobbing and crying, with her little 
blue frock and white pinafore spattered all over 
with mud. 

“Why, Dolly, what is the matter?’ 5 

“Those naughty boys,” she sobbeO. “have 
thrown the dirt all over me, and called ae a 
little raga—raga—” 

“They called her a little ‘blue’ ragamuffin, 
father,” said Harry, who ran in looking very 
angry; “but I have given it to them; they won’t 
insult my sister again. I have given them a 














196 


BLACK BEAUTY 



thrashing they will remember; a set of cowardly, 
rascally ‘orange’ blackguards!” 

Jerry kissed the child and said, “Run in to 
mother, my pet, and tell her I think you had 
better stay at home to-day and help her.” 

Then turning gravely to Harry—“My boy, 
I hope you will always defend your sister, and 
give anybody who insults her a good thrashing 
—that is as it should be; but mind, I won’t have 
any election blackguarding on my premises. 
There are as many ‘blue’ blackguards as there 
are ‘orange’, and as many white as there are 
purple, or any other color, and I won’t have 
any of my family mixed up with it. Even 
women and children are ready to quarrel for the 
sake of a color, and not one in ten of them knows 
what it is about.” 

“Why, father, I thought blue was for liberty.” 

“My boy, liberty does not come from colors, 
they only show party; and all the liberty you can 
get out of th im is liberty to get drunk at other 
people’s exp nse. liberty to ride to the poll in 
a dirty old' ab, liberty to abuse anyone that does 
not wear y ur color, and to shout yourself hoarse 
at what you only half understand—that’s your 
liberty!” 





“Oh, father, you are laughing.” 

“No, Harry, I am serious, and I am ashamed 
to see how men go on that ought to know better. 
An election is a very serious thing; at least it ought 
to be, and every man ought to vote according 
to his conscience, and let his neighbor do the 
same.” 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

A FRIEND IN NEED. 

At last came the election day; there was no 
lack of work for Jerry and me. First came a 
stout, puffy gentleman with a caipet-bag; he 
wanted to go to the Bishopsgate Station; then we 
were called by a party who wished to be taken 
to the Regent’s Park; and next we were wanted 
in a side street, where a timid, anxious old lady 
was waiting to be taken to the bank; there we 
had to stop to take her back again, and just as 
we had set her down a red-faced gentleman with 
a handful of papers came running up out of breath, 
and before Jerry could get down he had opened 
the door, popped himself in, and called out, 
“Bow Street Police Station, quick!” so off we 
went with him, and when after another turn or 
two we came back, there was no other cab on 
the stand. Jerry put on my nose-bag for, as he 
said, “We must eat when we can on such days 
as these; so munch away. Jack, and make the 
best of your time, old boy.” 

I found I had a good feed of crushed oats 

197 



198 


BLACK BEAUTY 


wetted up with a little bran; this would be a treat 
any day, but very refreshing then. Jerry was 
so thoughtful and kind—what horse would not 
do his best for such a master? Then he took 
out one of Polly’s meat pies, and standing near 
me he began to eat it. The streets were very 
full, and the cabs, with the candidates’ colors 
on them, were dashing about through the crowd 
as if life and limb were of no consequence; we 
saw two people knocked down that day, and 
one was a woman. The horses were having a 
bad time of it, poor things! but the voters inside 
thought nothing of that; many of them were 
half drunk, hurrahing out of the cab windows 
if their own party came by. It was the first elec¬ 
tion I had seen, and I don’t want to be in another, 
though I have heard things are better now. 

Jerry and I had not eaten many mouthfuls, 
before a poor young woman, carrying a heavy 
child, came along the street. She was looking 
this way and that way, and seemed quite be¬ 
wildered. Presently she made her way up to 
Jerry and asked if he could tell her the way to St. 
Thomas’ Hospital, and how far it was to get 
there. She had come from the country that morn¬ 
ing, she said, in a market cart; she did not know 
about the election, and was quite a stranger in 
London. She had got an order for the hospital 
for her little boy. The child was crying with a 
feeble, pining cry. 

“Poor little fellow!” she said, “he suffers a 
deal of pain; he is four years old, and can’t walk 
any more than a baby; but the doctor said if I 




BLACK BEAUTY 


199 



could get him into the hospital he might get 
well; pray, sir, how far is it? and which way is it?” 

“Why, missis,” said Jerry, “you can’t get 
there walking through crowds like this! Why, 
it is three miles away, and that child is very 
heavy.” 

“Yes, bless him, he is; but I am strong, thank 
God, and if I knew the way I think I should get 
on somehow; please tell me the way.” 

“You can’t do it,” said Jerry; “you might 
be knocked down and the child be run over. 
Now, look here, just get into this cab, and I’ll 
drive you safe to the hospital. Don’t you see 
the rain is coming on?” 

“No, sir, no; I can’t do that, thank you; I 
have only money enough to get back with. Please 
tell me the way.” 

“Look you here, missis,” said Jerry, “I’ve 
got a wife and dear children at home, and I know 
a father’s feelings; now, get you into that cab, 
and I’ll take you there for nothing. I’d be 
ashamed of myself to let a woman and a sick 
child run a risk like that.” 

“Heaven bless you!” said the woman, and 
burst into tears. 

“There, there, cheer up, my dear; I’ll soon 
take you there; come, let me put you inside.” 

As Jerry went to open the door, two men 
with colors in their hats and buttonholes ran up, 
calling out “Cab!” 

“Engaged,” cried Jerry; but one of the men, 
pushing past the woman, sprang into the cab, 
followed by the other. Jerry looked as stern as 

14 










200 


BLACK BEAUTY 


a policeman. “This cab is already engaged, 
gentlemen, by that lady.” 

“Lady!” said one of them. “Oh! she can 
wait; our business is very important; besides 
we were in first, it is our right, and we shall 
stay in.” 

A droll smile came over Jerry’s face as he shut 
the door upon them. “All right, gentlemen, 
pray stay in as long as it suits you; I can wait 
while you rest yourselves;” and turning his back 
upon them, he walked up to the woman who 
was standing near me. “They’ll soon be gone,” 
he said, laughing; “don’t trouble yourself, my 
dear.” 

And they soon were gone, for when they 
understood Jerry’s dodge they got out, calling 
him all sorts of bad names, and blustering about 
his number and getting a summons. After this 
little stoppage we were soon on our way to the 
hospital, going as much as possible through 
by-streets. Jerry rung the great bell, and helped 
the young woman out. “Thank you a thousand 
times,” she said; “I could never have got (here 
alone.” 

“You’re kindly welcome, and I hope the dear 
child will soon be better.” He watched her go 
in at the door, and gently he said to himself, 
“inasmuch as ye have done U to one of the least 
of these.” Then he patted my neck, which was 
always his way when anything pleased him. 

The rain was now coming down fast, and just 
as we were leaving the hospital the door opened 
again, and the porter called out, “Cab!” We 


BLACK BEAUTY 


201 


stopped, and a lady came down the steps. Jerry 
seemed to know her at once; she put back her 
veil and said, “Barker! Jeremiah Barker! is it 
you? I am very glad to find you here; you are 
just the friend I want, for it is very difficult to 
get a cab in this part of London to-day.” 

“I shall be proud to serve you, ma’am. I 
am glad I happened to be here; where may I 
take you, ma’am?” 

“To the Paddington Station, and then if we 
are in good time, as I think we shall be, you shall 
tell me all about Mary and the children.” 

We got to the station in good time, and, being 
under shelter, the lady stood a good while talking 
to Jerry. I found she had been Polly’s mistress, 
and after many inquiries about her, she said, 
“How do you find the cab work suits you in winter? 
I know Mary was rather anxious about you last 
year.” 

“Yes, ma’am, she was; I had a bad cough 
that followed me up quite into the warm weather, 
and when I am kept out late she does worry 
herself a good deal. You see, ma’am, it is all 
hours and all weathers, and that does try a man’s 
constitution; but I am getting on pretty well, 
and I should feel quite lost if I had not horses 
to look after. I was brought up to it, and I am 
afraid I should not do so well at anything else.” 

“Well, Barker,” she said, “it would be a great 
pity that you should seriously risk your health 
in this work, not only for your own, but for Mary’s 
and the children’s sake; there are many places 
where good drivers or good grooms are wanted; 







*»«« 


BLACK BEAUTY 


and-if ever you think you ought to give up this 
cab work let me know.” 

Then sending some kind messages to Mary, 
she put something into his hand, saying, “There 
is five shillings each for the two children; Mary 
will know how to spend it.” 

Jerry thanked her and seemed much pleased, 
and turning out of the station we at last reached 
home, and I, at least, was tired. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 


OLD CAPTAIN AND HIS SUCCESSOR. 


Captain and I were great friends. He was a 
noble old fellow and was very good company. 
I never thought he would have to leave his home 
and go down the hill, but his turn came; and 
this was how it happened. I was not there, but 
I heard all about it. 

He and Jerry had taken a party to the great 
railway station over London Bridge, and were 
coming back, somewhere between the Bridge and 
the Monument, when Jerry saw a brewer’s 
empty dray coming along, drawn by two power¬ 
ful horses. The drayman was lashing his horses 
with his heavy whip; the dray was light, and they 


... it 


vm 







BLACK BEAUTY 


203 


started off at a furious rate; the man had no 
control over them, and the street was full of 
traffic; one young girl was knocked down and 
run over, and the next moment they dashed up 
against our cab; both the wheels were tom off 
and the cab was thrown over. Captain was 
dragged down, the shafts splintered and one of 
them ran into his side. Jerry, too, was thrown, 
but was only braised; nobody could tell how he 
escaped; he always said it was a miracle. When 
poor Captain was got up, he was found to be very 
much cut and knocked about. Jerry led him 
home gently, and a sad sight it was to see the 
blood soaking into his white coat, and dropping 
from his side and shoulder. The drayman was 
proved to be very drunk, and was fined, and the 
brewer had to pay damages to our master; but 
there was no one to pay damages to poor Captain. 

The farrier did the best he could to ease his 
pain and make him comfortable. The fly had 
to be mended, and for several days I did not go 
out, and Jerry earned nothing. The first time 
we went to the stand after the accident the 
Governor came up to hear how Captain was. 

“He’ll never get over it,” said Jerry, “at least 
not for my work; so the farrier said this morning. 
He says he may do for carting and that sort of 
work. It has put me out very much. Carting, 
indeed! I’ve seen what horses come to at that 
work round London. I only wish that all the 
drunkards could be put in a lunatic asylum, 
instead of allowed to ran foul of sober people. 
If they would break their own bones, and smash 


204 


BLACK BEAUTY 


their own carts, and lame their own horses, that 
would be their own affair and we might let them 
alone; but it seems to me that the innocent 
always suffer; and then they talk about com¬ 
pensation! You can't make compensation; there's 
all the trouble, and vexation, and loss of time, 
besides losing a good horse that's like an old friend 
—it's nonsense talking of compensation! If 
there's one devil that I should like to see in the 
bottomless pit more than another it's the drink 
devil " 

“I say, Jerry," said the Governor, “you are 
treading pretty hard on my toes, you know; 
I'm not so good as you are, more shame for me; 
I wish I was." 

“Why don't you cut it, Governor? You are too 
good a man to be the slave of such a thing." 

“I'm a great fool, Jerry, but I tried it once 
for two days, and I thought I should have died; 
how did you do?" 

“I had hard work at it for several weeks; you 
see I never did get drunk, but I found that I 
was not my own master, and that when the 
craving came on it was hard work to say 'no,' 
I saw that one of us must knock under, the drink 
devil or Jerry Barker, and I said that it should 
not be Jerry Barker, God helping me; but it was 
a struggle, and I wanted all the help I could get, 
for till I tried to break the habit I did not know 
how strong it was; but then Polly took great pains 
that I should have good food, and when the 
craving came on I used to get a cup of coffee, 
or some peppermint, or read a bit in my book, 






BLACK BEAUTY 


205 


and that was a help to me; sometimes I had to 
say over and over to myself, 'Give up the drink 
or lose your soul! Give up the drink or break 
Polly's heart!' but thanks be to God and my wife, 
my chains were broken, and now for ten years 
I have not tasted a drop, and never wish for it." 

“I've a great mind to try it," said Grant, 
“for 'tis a poor thing not to be one's master." 

“Do, Governor, you'll never repent it; and what 
a help it would be to some of the poor fellows in 
our rank if they saw you do without it. I know 
there is two or three would like to keep out of 
the tavern if they could." 

At first Captain seemed to do well, but he 
was a very old horse, and it was only his wonderful 
constitution and Jerry's care that had kept him 
at the cab work so long; now he broke down 
very much. The farrier said he might mend up 
enough to sell for a few pounds, but Jerry said, 
no! a few pounds got by selling a good old servant 
into hard work and misery would canker all the 
rest of his money, and he thought the kindest 
thing he could do for the fine old fellow would be 
to put a sure bullet through his head, and then 
he would never suffer more, for he did not know 
where to find a kind master for the rest of his days. 

The day after this was decided, Harry took 
me to the forge for some new shoes; when I 
returned, Captain was gone. I and the family 
all felt it very much. 

Jerry had now to look out for another horse, 
and he soon heard of one through an acquaintance 
who was under-groom in a nobleman's stables. 

14 


206 


BLACK BEAUTY 


He was a valuable young horse, but he had run 
away, smashed into another carriage, flung his 
lordship out, and so cut and blemished himself 
that he was no longer fit for a gentleman’s stables, 
and the coachman had orders to look round and 
sell him as well as he could. 

“I can do with high spirits,” said Jerry, “if 
a horse is not vicious or hard-mouthed.” 

“There is not a bit of vice in him,” said the 
man; “his mouth is very tender, and I think that 
was the cause of the accident; he had just been 
clipped, and the weather was bad, and he had not 
had exercise enough, and when he did go out 
he was as full of spring as a balloon. Our gover¬ 
nor (the coachman, I mean) had him harnessed 
in as tight and strong as he could, with the martin¬ 
gale, and the check-rein, a sharp curb, and the 
reins put in at the bottom bar. It is my belief 
that it made the horse mad, being tender in the 
mouth and so full of spirit.” 

“Likely enough; I’ll come and see him,” said 
Jerry. 

The next day, Hotspur, that was his name, 
came home; he was a fine brown horse, without 
a white hair in him, as tall as Captain, with a 
very handsome head, and only five years old. 
I gave him a friendly greeting by way of good fel¬ 
lowship, but did not ask him any questions. 
The first night he was very restless. Instead of 
lying down, he kept jerking his halter rope up 
and down through the ring, and knocking the block 
about against the manger till I could not sleep. 
The next day, after five or six hours in the cab, 




BLACK BEAUTY 


207 


he came in quiet and sensible. Jerry patted 
and talked to him a good deal, and very soon 
they understood each other, and Jerry said that 
with an easy bit and plenty of work he would 
be as gentle as a lamb; and that it was an ill 
wind that blew nobody good, for if his lordship 
had lost a hundred-guinea favorite, the cabman 
had gained a good horse with all his strength in 
him. 

Hotspur thought it a great come-down to be 
a cab horse and was disgusted at standing in the 
rank, but he confessed to me at the end of the 
week that an easy mouth and a free head made up 
for a great deal, and, after all, the work was not so 
degrading as having erne’s head and tail fastened 
to each other at the saddle. In fact, he settled 
in well, and Jerry liked him very much. 



CHAPTER XLV. 


JERRY’S NEW YEAR. 

Christmas and the New Year are very merry 
times for some people; but for cabmen and cab¬ 
men’s horses it is no holiday, though it may be 



208 


BLACK BEAUTY 



a harvest. There are so many parties, balls, and 
places of amusement open, that the work is 
hard and often late. Sometimes driver and horse 
have to wait for hours in the rain or frost, shiver¬ 
ing with cold, while the merry people within 
are dancing away to the music. 1 wonder if the 
beautiful ladies ever think of the weary cabman 
waiting on his box, and his patient beast standing 
till his legs get stiff with cold. 

I had now most of the evening work, as I was 
well accustomed to standing, and Jerry was also 
more afraid of Hotspur’s taking cold. We had a 
great deal of late work in the Christmas week, 
and Jerry’s cough was bad; but, however late 
we were, Polly sat up for him, and came out with 
a lantern to meet him, looking anxious and 
troubled. 

On the evening of the New Year we had to take 
two gentlemen to a house in one of the West End 
squares. We set them down at nine o’clock, 
and were told to come again at eleven; "but,” 
said one of them, "as it is a card party you may 
have to wait a few minutes, but don’t be late.” 
As the clock struck eleven we were at the door, 
for Jerry was always punctual. The clock chimed 
the quarter, one, two, three, and then struck 
twelve, but the door did not open. 

The wind had been very changeable, with 
squalls of rain during the day, but now it came 
on sharp, driving sleet, which seemed to come 
all the way round; it was very cold, and there 
was no shelter. Jerry got off his box and came 
and pulled one of my cloths a little more over 




BLACK BEAUTY 


209 


my neck; then he took a turn or two up and 
down, stamping his feet; then he began to beat 
his arms, but that set him off coughing; so he 
opened the cab door and sat at the bottom with 
his feet on the pavement, and was a little shel¬ 
tered. Still the clock chimed the quarters, and 
no one came. At half-past twelve he rang the 
bell and asked the servant if he would be wanted 
that night. 

“Oh, yes, you'll be wanted safe enough," said 
the man; “you must not go, it will soon be over;" 
and again Jerry sat down, but his voice was so 
hoarse I could hardly hear him. 

At a quarter-past one the door opened and 
the two gentlemen came out; they got into the 
cab without a word and told Jerry where to drive; 
that was nearly two miles. My legs were numb 
with cold, and I thought I should have stum¬ 
bled. When the men got out they never said 
they were sorry to have kept us waiting so long, 
but were angry at the charge; however, as Jerry 
never charged more than was his due, so he never 
took less, and they had to pay for the two hours 
and a quarter waiting; but it was hard-earned 
money to Jerry. 

At last he got home; he could hardly speak, 
and his cough was dreadful. Polly asked no 
questions, but opened the door and held the 
lantern for him. 

“Can't I do something?" she said. 

“Yes; get Jack something warm, and then boil 
me some gruel." 

This was said in a hoarse whisper; he could 


210 


BLACK BEAUTY 


hardly get his breath; but he gave me a rub down, 
as usual, and even went up into the hayloft for 
an extra bundle of straw for my bed. Polly 
brought me a warm mash that made me com¬ 
fortable, and then they locked the door. 

It was late the next morning before anyone 
came, and then it was only Harry. He cleaned 
us and fed us, and swept out the stalls; then he 
put the straw back again as if it was Sunday. 
He was very still, and neither whistled nor sang. 
At noon he came again and gave us our food and 
water; this time Dolly came with him; she was 
crying, and I could gather from what they said 
that Jerry was dangerously ill, and the doctor 
said it was a bad case. So two days passed, and 
there was great trouble indoors. We only saw 
Harry, and sometimes Dolly. I think she came 
for company, for Polly was always with Jerry, 
and he had to be kept very quiet. 

On the third day, while Harry was in the 
stable, a tap came at the door, and Governor 
Grant came in. 

“I wouldn’t go to the house, my boy,” he 
said, “but I want to know how your father is.” 

“He is very bad,” said Harry; “he can’t be 
much worse; they call it ‘bronchitis’; the doctor 
thinks it will turn one way or another to-night.” 

“That’s bad, very bad,” said Grant, shaking 
his head; “I know two men who died of that last 
week; it takes ’em off in no time; but while there’s 
life there’s hope, so you must keep up your spirits.” 

“Yes,” said Harry, quickly, “and the doctor 
said that father had a better chance than most 



BLACK BEAUTY 


211 


men, because he didn’t drink. He said yester¬ 
day the fever was so high, that if father had been 
a drinking man it would have burnt him up like 
a piece of paper; but he thinks he will get over it; 
don’t you think he will, Mr. Grant?” 

The Governor looked puzzled. “If there’s 
any rule that good men should get over these 
things, I am sure he will, my boy; he’s the best 
man I know. I’ll look in early to-morrow.” 

Early next morning he was there. 

“Well?” said he. 

“Father is better,” said Harry. “Mother hopes 
he will get over it.” 

“Thank God!” said the Governor; “and now 
you must keep him warm, and keep his mind 
easy, and that brings me to the horses. You 
see, Jack will be all the better for the rest of a 
week or two in a warm stable and you can easily 
take him a turn up and down the street to stretch 
his legs; but this young one, if he does not get 
work, he will soon be all up on end, as you may 
say, and will be rather too much for you; and 
when he does go out, there’ll be an accident.” 

“It is like that now,” said Harry. “I have 
kept him short of corn, but he’s so full of spirit 
I don’t know what to do with him.” 

“Just so,” said Grant. “Now, look here, will 
you tell your mother that, if she is agreeable, I 
will come for him every day until something is 
arranged, and take him for a good spell of work, 
and whatever he earns, I’ll bring your mother 
half of it, and that will help with the horses’ feed. 
Your father is in a good club, I know, but that 


ft 






212 


BLACK BEAUTY 



won’t keep the horses, and they’ll be eating their 
heads off all this time; I’ll come at noon and 
hear what she says.” Without waiting for Harry’s 
thanks, he was gone. 

At noon I think he went and saw Polly, for he 
and Harry came to the stable together, harnessed 
Hotspur, and took him out. For a week or more 
he came for Hotspur, and when Harry thanked 
him or said anything about his kindness, he laughed 
it off, saying it was all good luck for him, for his 
horses were wanting a little rest which they 
would not otherwise have had. 

Jerry grew better steadily, but the doctor said 
that he must never go back to the cab work again 
if he wished to be an old man. The children 
had many consultations together about what 
father and mother would do, and how they could 
help to earn money. 

One afternoon Hotspur was brought in very wet 
and dirty. “The streets are nothing but slush,” 
said the Governor; “it will give you a good 
warming, my boy, to get him clean and dry.” 
“All right, Governor,” said Harry, “I shall 
leave him till he is; you know I have been 
my father.” 

all the boys had been trained like 
yuu, said the Governor. While Harry was 
sponging off the mud from Hotspur’s body and 
Dolly came in, looking very full of some- 


lives at Fairstowe, Harry? Mother has 
got a letter from Fairstowe; she seemed so glad, 
to father with it.” 



BLACK BEAUTY 


213 


"Don’t you know? Why, it is the name of 
Mrs. Fowler’s place—mother’s old mistress, you 
know—the lady that father met last summer, 
who sent you and me five shillings each.” 

“Oh! Mrs. Fowler; of course I know about 
her; I wonder what she is writing to mother 
about.” 

“Mother wrote to her last week,” said Harry; 
“you know she told father if ever he gave up the 
cab work she would like to know. I wonder 
what she says; run in and see, Dolly.” 

Harry scrubbed away at Hotspur with a huish! 
huish! like any old hostler. In a few minutes 
Dolly came dancing into the stable. “Oh! Harry, 
there never was anything so beautiful; Mrs. 
Fowler says we are all to go and live near her. 
There is a cottage now empty that will just suit 
us, with a garden and a hen-house and apple 
trees, and everything! and her coachman is 
going away in the spring, and then she will want 
father in his place; and there are good families 
round, where you can get a place in the garden, 
or the stable, or as a page boy; and there’s 
a good school for me; and mother is laughing 
and crying by turns, and father does look so 
happy!” 

“That’s uncommon jolly,” said Harry, “and 
just the right thing, I should say; it will suit 
father and mother both; but I don’t intend to be 
a page boy with tight clothes and rows of but¬ 
tons. I’ll be a groom or a gardener.” 

It was quickly settled that as soon as Jerry 
was well enough, they should remove to the 


214 


BLACK BEAUTY 


country, and that the cab and horses should be 
sold as soon as possible. 

This was heavy news for me, for I was not 
young now, and could not look for any improve¬ 
ment in my condition. Since I left Birtwiek 
I had never been so happy as with my dear 
master Jerry; but three years of cab work even 
under the best conditions will tell on one’s 
strength, and I felt that I was not the horse that 
I had been. 

Grant said at once that he would take Hot¬ 
spur; and there were men on the stand who would 
have bought me, but Jerry said I should not go 
to cab work again with just anybody, and the 
Governor promised to find a place for me where 
I should be comfortable. 

' The day came for going away. Jerry had not 
been allowed to go out yet, and I never saw him 
after that New Year’s eve. Polly and the chib 
dren came to bid me good-by. “Poor old JacK 
dear old Jack! I wish we could take you with 
us,” she said, and then laying her hand on my 
mane, she put her face close to my neck and 
kissed me. Dolly was crying and kissed me, 
too. Harry stroked me a great deal, but said 
nothing, only he seemed very sad, and so I was 
led away to my new place. 



BLACK BEAUTY 215 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

JAKES AND THE LADY. 

I was sold to a corn dealer and baker, whom 
Jerry knew, and with him he thought I should 
have good food and fair work. In the first he 
was quite right, and if my master had always 
been on the premises, I do not think I should 
have been overloaded, but there was a foreman 
who was always hurrying and driving everyone, 
and frequently when I had quite a full load, 
he would order something else to be taken on. 
My carter, whose name was Jakes, often said it 
was more than I ought to take, but the other 
always overruled him. “ ’Twas no use going 
twice when once would do, and he chose to get 
business forward.” 

Jakes, like the other carters, always had the 
check-rein up, which prevented me from drawing 
easily, and by the time I had been there three 
or four months, I found the work telling very 
much on my strength. 

One day, I was loaded more than usual, and 
part of the road was a steep uphill. I used all 
my strength, but I could not get on, and was 
obliged continually to stop. This did not please 
my driver, and he laid his whip on badly. “Get 
on, you lazy fellow,” he said, “or I’ll make you.” 

Again I started the heavy load, and struggled 
on a few yards; again the whip came down, and 
again I struggled forward. The pain of that 
great cart whip was sharp, but my mind was 
hurt quite as much as my poor sides. To be 

J5 


f I 








216 BLACK BEAUTY 


punished and abused when I was doing my very 
best was so hard it took the heart out of me. 
A third time he was flogging me cruelly, when a 
lady stepped quickly up to him, and said in a 
sweet, earnest voice,— 

“Oh! pray do not whip your good horse any 
more; I am sure he is doing all he can, and the 
road is steep; I am sure he is doing his best.” 

“If doing his best won't get this load up, he 
must do something more than his best; that's all 
I know, ma'am,” said Jakes. 

1 is it not a heavy load?” she said. 

yes, too heavy,” he said; “but that's 
my fault; the foreman came just as we were 
starting, and would have three hundred weight 
more put on to save him trouble, and I must 
get on with it as well as I can.” 

He was raising the whip again, when the 
lady said,— 

'Tray, stop; I think I can help you if you will 
let me.” 

The man laughed. 

“You see,” she said, “you do not give him 
a fair chance; he cannot use all his power with 
his head held back as it is with that check-rein; 
if you would take it off, I am sure he would do 
better ,—do try it,” she said, persuasively, “I 
should be very glad if you would.” 

“Well, well,” said Jakes, with a short laugh, 
“anything to please a lady, of course. How 
far would you wish it down, ma'am?” 

“Quite down, give him his head altogether/’ 

The rein was taken off, and in a moment I 





BLACK BEAUTY 


217 


put my head down to my very knees. What a 
comfort it was! Then I tossed it up and down 
several times to get the aching stiffness out of 
my neck. 

“Poor fellow! that is what you wanted,” 
said she, patting and stroking me with her gentle 
hand; “and now if you will speak kindly to him 
and lead him on, I believe he will be able to do 
better.” 

Jakes took the rein. “Come on, Blackie.” 

I put down my head, and threw my whole weight 
against the collar; I spared no strength; the load 
moved on, and I pulled it steadily up the hill, 
and then stopped to take breath. 

The lady had walked along the footpath, 
and now came across into the road. She stroked 
and patted my neck, as I had not been patted 
for many a long day. 

“You see he was quite willing when you gave 
him the chance; I am sure he is a fine-tempered 
creature, and I dare say has known better days. 
You won’t put that rein on again, will you?” 
for he was just going to hitch it up on the old 
plan. 

“Well, ma’am, I can’t deny that having his 
head has helped him up the hill, and I’ll remember 
it another time, and thank you, ma’am; but if 
he went without a check-rein, I should be the 
laughing-stock of all the carters; it is the fashion, 
you see.” 

“Is it not better,” she said, “to lead a good 
fashion than to follow a bad one? A great 
many gentlemen do not use check-reins now; our 



218 


BLACK BEAUTY 


carriage horses have not worn them for fifteen 
years, and work with much less fatigue than those 
who have them; besides,” she added in a very 
serious voice, “we have no right to distress any 
of God’s creatures without a very good reason; 
we call them dumb animals, and so they are, for 
they cannot tell us how they feel, but they do 
not suffer less because they have no words. But 
I must not detain you now; I thank you for 
trying my plan with your good horse, and I 
am sure you will find it far better than the whip. 
Good-day,” and with another soft pat on my 
neck she stepped lightly across the path, and I 
saw her no more. 

“That was a real lady, I’ll be bound for it,” 
said Jakes to himself; “she spoke just as polite 
as if I was a gentleman, and I’ll try her plan, 
uphill, at any rate”; and I must do him the jus¬ 
tice to say that he let my rein out several holes, 
and going uphill after that he always gave me 
my head; but the heavy loads went on. Good 
feed and fair rest will keep one’s strength under 
full work, but no horse can stand against overload¬ 
ing; and I was getting so thoroughly pulled down 
from this cause that a younger horse was bought 
in my place. I may as well mention here what 
I suffered at this time from another cause. I 
had heard horses speak of it, but had never my¬ 
self had experience of the evil; this was a badly- 
lighted stable; there was only one very small win¬ 
dow at the end, and the consequence was that 
the stalls were almost dark. 

Besides the depressing effect this had on my 



BLACK BEAUTY 


219 


spirits, it very much weakened my sight, and when 
I was suddenly brought out of the darkness into 
the glare of daylight, it was very painful to my 
eyes. Several times I stumbled over the thresh¬ 
old, and could scarcely see where I was going. 

I believe, had I stayed there very long, I should 
have become purblind, and that would have been 
a great misfortune, for I have heard men say 
that a stone-blind horse was safer to drive than 
one which had imperfect sight, as it generally 
makes them very timid. However, I escaped 
without any permanent injury to my sight, and 
was sold to a large cab owner. 


CHAPTER XLVIL 

HARD TIMES. 

I shall never forget my new master; he had 
black eyes and a hooked nose, his mouth was as 
full of teeth as a bull-dog’s, and his voice was as 
harsh as the grinding of cart wheels over gravel 
stones. His name was Nicholas Skinner, and I 
believe he was the same man that poor Seedy 
Sam drove for. _ . 

I have heard men say that seeing is believing, 
but I should say that feeling is believing; for much 



BLACK BEAUTY 





220 

as I had seen before, I never knew until now the 
utter misery of a cab-horse’s life. Skinner had 
a low set of cabs and a low set of drivers; he was 
hard on the men, and the men were hard on the 
horses. In this place we had no Sunday rest, 
and it was in the heat of summer. 

Sometimes on a Sunday morning a party of 
fast men would hire the cab for the day, four 
of them inside and another with the driver, and 
I had to take them ten or fifteen miles out into 
the country and back again; never would any of 
them get down to walk up a hill, let it be ever so 
steep, or the day ever so hot—unless, indeed, 
when the driver was afraid I should not manage 
it; and sometimes I was so fevered and worn that 
I could hardly touch my food. How I used to 
long for the nice bran mash with nitre in it that 
Jerry used to give us on Saturday nights in hot 
weather, that used to cool us down and make us 
so comfortable. Then we had two nights and a 
whole day for unbroken rest, 1 * and on Monday 
morning we were as fresh as young horses again; 
but here there was no rest, and my driver was 
just as hard as his master. He had a cruel whip 
with something so sharp at the end that it some¬ 
times drew blood, and he would even whip me 
under the belly, and flip the lash out at my head. 
Indignities like these took the heart out of me 
terribly, but still I did my best and never hung 
back, for, as poor Ginger said, it was no use; 
men are the strongest. 

My life was now so wretched that I wished 
I might, like Ginger, drop down dead at my work, 









BLACK BEAUTY 


221 



and be out of my misery, and one day my wish 
very nearly came to pass. 

I went on the stand at eight in the morning, 
and had done a good share of work, when we had 
to take a fare to the railway. A long train was 
just expected in, so my driver pulled up at the 
back of some of the outside cabs, to take the 
chance of a return fare. It was a very heavy 
train, and as all the cabs were soon engaged, ours 
was called for. There was a party of four; a noisy, 
blustering man with a lady, a little boy, and 
a young girl, and a great deal of luggage. The 
lady and the boy got into the cab, and while the 
man ordered about the luggage, the young girl 
came and looked at me. 

“Papa,” she said, “I am sure this poor horse 
cannot take us and all our luggage so far, he is 
so very weak and worn out; do look at him.” 

“Oh! he’s all right, miss,” said my driver; 
“he’s strong enough.” The porter, who was pull¬ 
ing about some heavy boxes, suggested to the 
gentleman, as there was so much luggage, that he 
had better take a second cab. 

__ T__ J _ *JL _ 9J. 1- _• J 








BLACK BEAUTY 






222 

a pretty thing it would be if a man of business 
had to examine every cab-horse before he hired 
it—the man knows his own business; there, get 
in and hold your tongue!” 

My gentle friend had to obey; and box 
after box was lodged on the top of the cab, or 
settled by the side of the driver. At last all was 
ready, and with his usual jerk at the rein, and 
slash of the whip, he drove out of the station. 

The load was very heavy, and I had had neither 
food nor rest since morning; but I did my best, 
as I always had done, in spite of cruelty and in¬ 
justice. 

I got along fairly till we came to Ludgate Hill, 
but there the heavy load and my own exhaustion 
were too much. I was struggling to keep on, 
goaded by constant chucks of the rein and use 
of the whip, when, in a single moment—I cannot 
tell how—my feet slipped from under me, and 
I fell heavily to the ground on my side; the 
suddenness and the force with which I fell seemed 
to beat all the breath out of my body. I lay 
perfectly still; indeed, I had no power to move, 
and I thought now I was going to die. I heard 
a sort of confusion round me, loud angry voices, 
and the getting down of the luggage, but it was 
all like a dream. I thought I heard that sweet, 
pitiful voice saying, “Oh! that poor horse! it is 
all our fault.” Someone came and loosened the 
throat strap of my bridle, and undid the traces 
which kept the collar so tight upon me. Some¬ 
one said, “He’s dead, he’ll never get up again.” 
Then I could hear a policeman giving orders, but 





BLACK BEAUTY 


223 



I did not even open my eyes; I could only draw 
a gasping breath now and then. Some cold water 
was thrown over my head, and some cordial was 
poured into my mouth, and something was covered 
over me. I cannot tell how long I lay there, but 
I found my life coming back, and a kind-voiced 
man was patting me and encouraging me to rise. 
After some more cordial had been given me, and 
after one or two attempts, I staggered to my feet, 
and was gently led to some stables which were 
close by. Here I was put into a well-littered 
stall, and some warm gruel was brought to me, 
which I drank thankfully. 

In the evening I was sufficiently recovered to 
be led back to Skinner’s stables, where I think 
they did the best for me they could. In the morn¬ 
ing, Skinner came with a farrier to look at me. He 
examined me very closely and said, “This is a 
case of overwork more than disease, and if you 
could give him a run off for six months, he would 
be able to work again; but now there is not an 
ounce of strength in him.” 

1 “Then he must just go to the dogs,” said 
Skinner. “I have no meadows to nurse sick 
horses in—he might get well or he might not; 
that sort of thing don’t suit my business; my 
plan is to work ’em as long as they’ll go, and then 
sell ’em for what they’ll fetch at the knacker’s or 
elsewhere. 9 9 

“It he was broken-winded,” said the farrier, 
“you had better have him killed out of hand, but 
he is not; there is a sale of horses coming off in 
about ten days; if you rest him and feed him up, 





224 


BLACK BEAUTY 


he may pick up, and you may get more than 
his skin is worth, at any rate.” 

Upon this advice, Skinner, rather unwillingly, 
I think, gave orders that I should be well fed and 
cared for, and the stableman, happily for me, 
carried out the orders with a much better will 
than his master had in giving them. Ten days 
of perfect rest, plenty of good oats, hay, bran 
mashes, with boiled linseed mixed in them, did 
more to get up my condition than anything else 
could have done; those linseed mashes were de¬ 
licious, and I began to think, after all, it might 
be better to live than to go to the dogs. When 
the twelfth day after the accident came, I was 
taken to the sale, a few miles out of London. 
I felt that any change from my present place 
must be an improvement, so I held up my head, 
and hoped for the best. 



CHAPTER XLYIII. 


FARMER TH0K0UGHG00D AND 
HIS GRANDSON WILLIE. 

At this sale, of course, I found myself in com¬ 
pany with the old broken-down horses—some lame, 
some broken-winded, some old, and some that I 



BLACK BEAUTY 


225 


am sure it would have been merciful to shoot. 

The buyers, and sellers, too, many of them, 
looked not much better off than the poor beasts 
they were bargaining about. There were poor 
old men trying to get a horse or pony for a few 
pounds, that might drag about some little wood 
or coal cart. There were poor men trying to sell 
a worn-out beast for two or three pounds, rather 
than have the greater loss of killing him. Some 
of them looked as if poverty and hard times had 
hardened them all over; but there were others 
that I would have willingly used the last of my 
strength in serving; poor and shabby, but kind 
and humane, with voices that I could trust. 
There was one tottering old man that took a 
great fancy to me, and I to him> but I was not 
strong enough—it was an anxious time! Com¬ 
ing from the better part of the fair, I noticed a 
man who looked like a gentleman farmer, with 
a young boy by his side; he had a broad back 
and round shoulders, a kind, ruddy face, and he 
wore a broad-brimmed hat. When he came 
up to me and my companions he stood still and 
gave a pitiful look round upon us. I saw his 
eye rest on me; I had still a good mane and tail, 
which did something for my appearance. I 
pricked my ears and looked at him. 

“There’s a horse,” j said the man, “that has 
known better days.” And the boy said, “Poor 
old fellow! do you think, grandpapa, he was ever 
a carriage horse?” 

“Oh, yes!” said the farmer, “he might have 
been anything when he was young; look at his 


226 


BLACK BEAUTY 




nostrils and his ears, the shape of his neck and 
shoulder; there’s a deal of breeding about that 
horse.” He put out his hand and gave me a kind 
pat on the neck. I put out my nose in answer 
to his kindness; the boy stroked my face. 

“Poor old fellow! see, grandpapa, how well 
he understands kindness. Could not you buy 
him and make him young again as you did with 
Ladybird?” 

“My dear boy, I can’t make all old horses 
young; besides, Ladybird was not so very old 
as she was run down and badly used.” 

“Well, grandpapa, I don’t believe that this 
one is old; look at his mane and tail. I wish you 
would look into his mouth, and then you could 
tell; though he is so very thin, his eyes are not 
sunk like some old horses.” 

The old gentleman laughed. “Bless the boy! 
he is as horsey as his old grandfather.” 

“But do look at his mouth, grandpapa, and 
ask the price; I am sure he would grow young 
in our meadows.” 

The man who had brought me for sale now put 
in his word. “The young gentleman’s a real 
knowing one, sir. Now the fact is, this ’ere horse 
is just pulled down with overwork in the cabs, 
he’s not an old one, and I heard as how the veter¬ 
inary should say that a six months’ run off would 
set him right up, being as how his wind was 
not broken. I’ve had the tending of him these 
ten days past, and a gratefuller, pleasanter ani¬ 
mal I never met with, and ’twould be worth a 
gentleman’s while to give a five-pound note for 

































228 


BLACK BEAUTY 


him and let him have a chance. I’ll be bound 
he would be worth twenty pounds by next 
spring.” 

The old gentleman laughed, and the little boy 
looked up eagerly. “Oh, grandpapa, did you 
not say the colt sold for five pounds more than 
you expected? You would not be poorer if you 
did buy this one.” 

The farmer felt my legs, which were much 
swelled and strained; then he looked at my 
mouth. “Thirteen or fourteen, I should say; 
just trot him out, will you?” I arched my poor 
thin neck, raised my tail a little, threw out my legs 
as well as I could, for they were very stiff. 

“What is the lowest you will take for 
him?” said the farmer as I came back. 

“Five pounds, sir; that was the lowest price my 
master set.” 

“ ’Tis a speculation,” said the old gentleman, 
shaking his head, but at the same time slowly 
drawing out his purse, “quite a speculation! 
Have you any more business here?” he said, 
counting the sovereigns into his hand. 

“No, sir; I can take him for you to the inn, 
if you please.” 

“Do so; I am now going there.” 

They walked forward, and I was led behind. 
The boy could hardly control his delight, and 
the old gentleman seemed to enjoy his pleasure. 
I had a good feed at the inn, and was then gently 
ridden home by a servant of my new master’s, 
and turned into a large meadow with a shed in 
one corner of it. 


BLACK BEAUTY 



229 

Mr. Thoroughgood, for that was the name of 
my benefactor, gave orders that I should have 
hay and oats every night and morning, and the 
run of the meadow during the day; and, “you, 
Willie,” said he, “must take the oversight of him; 
I give him in charge to you.” 

The boy was proud of his charge, and under¬ 
took it in all seriousness. There was not a day 
when he did not pay me a visit; sometimes pick¬ 
ing me out from among the other horses and 
giving me a bit of carrot, or something good, or 
standing by while I ate my oats. He always 
came with kind words and caresses, and I grew 
very fond of him. He called me Old Crony; 
as I used to come to him in the field and fol¬ 
low him about. Sometimes he brought his 
grandfather, who | always looked closely at 
my legs. 

“This is our point, Willie,” he would say; 
“but he is improving so steadily that I think we 
shall see a change for the better in the spring.” 

The perfect rest, the good food, the soft turf 
and gentle exercise soon began to tell on my 
condition and my spirits. I had a good constitu¬ 
tion from my mother and I was never strained 
when I was young, so that I had a better chance 
than man y horses who have been worked before 
they came to their full strength. During the 
winter my legs improved so much that I began 
to feel quite young again. The spring came 
around, and one day in March Mr. Thorough- 
good determined that he would tiy me in the 
phaeton. I was well pleased, 









BLACK BEAUTY 


drove me a few miles. My legs were not stiff 
now, and I did the work with perfect ease. 

“He’s growing young, Willie; we must give him 
a little gentle work now, and by midsummer he 
will be as good as Ladybird. He has a beautiful 
mouth and good paces; they can’t be better.” 

“Oh, grandpapa, how glad I am you bought 
him!” 

“So am I, my boy; but he has to thank you 
more than me; we must now be looking out for 
a quiet, genteel place for him, where he will be 




MY LAST HOME. 

One day, during this summer, the groom cleaned 
and dressed me with such extraordinary care that 
I thought some new change must be at hand; 
he trimmed my fetlocks and legs, passed the tar 
brush over my hoofs, and even parted my fore- 
I think the harness had an extra polish, 
seemed anxious, half merry, as he got 
with his grandfather. 

him,” said the old gentle- 





BLACK BEAUTY 


231 









man, “they'll be suited and he’ll be suited: we can 
but try.” 

At the distance of a mile or two from the 
village we came to a pretty, low house, with a 
lawn and shrubbery at the front and a drive up 
to the door. Willie rang the bell and asked if 
Miss Bloomfield or Miss Ellen was at home. 
Yes, they were. So, while Willie stayed with 
me, Mr. Thoroughgood went into the house. 
In about ten minutes he returned, followed by 
three ladies; one tall, pale lady, wrapped in a 
white shawl, leaned on a younger lady, with dark 
eyes and a merry face; the other, a very stately 
looking person, was Miss Bloomfield. They all 
came and looked at me and asked questions. 
The young lady—that was Miss Ellen—took to 
me very much; she said she was sure she would 
like me, I had such a good face. The tall, pale 
lady said she should always be nervous in riding 
behind a horse that had once been down, as I 
might come down again, and if I did she should 
never get over the fright. 

“You see, ladies,” said Mr. Thoroughgood, 
“many first-rate horses have had their knees 
broken through the carelessness of their drivers, 
without any fault of their own, and from what I 
see of this horse I should say that is his case; 
but, of course, I do not wish to influence you. 
If you incline, you can have him on trial, and then 
your coachman will see what he thinks of him.” 

“You have always been such a good adviser 
to us about our horses,” said the stately lady, 
•“that your recommendation would go a long way 
16 















232 


BLACK BEAUTY 


with me, and if my sister Lavinia sees no objec¬ 
tion, we will accept your offer of a trial, with 
thanks.” 

It was then arranged that I should be sent 
for the next day. In the morning a smart-look¬ 
ing young man came for me; at first he looked 
pleased; but when he saw my knees he said, in a 
disappointed voice: “I didn’t think, sir, you would 
have recommended my ladies a blemished horse 
like that.” 

“ ‘Handsome is that handsome does/ ” said 
my master: “you are only taking him on trial, 
and I am sure you will do fairly by him, young 
man; if he is not as safe as any horse you ever 
drove, send him back.” 

I was led to my new home, placed in a com¬ 
fortable stable, fed, and left to myself. The 
next day, when my groom was cleaning my face, 
he said, “That is just like the star that ‘Black 
Beauty’ had; he is much the same height, too; 
I wonder where he is now?” 

A little further on he came to the place in my 
neck where I was bled, and where a little knot 
was left in the skin. He almost started, and 
began to look me over carefully, talking to him¬ 
self. 

“White star in the forehead, one white foot on 
the off side, this little knot just in that place;” 
then looking at the middle of my back—“and as 
I am alive, there is that little patch of white hair 
that John used to call ‘Beauty’s three-penny 
bit/ It must be ‘Black Beauty!’ Why, Beauty! 
Beauty! do you know me? little Joe Green, that 





BLACK BEAUTY 233 

almost killed you?” And he began patting and 
patting me as if he was quite overjoyed. 

I could not say that I remembered him, for 
now he was a fine grown young fellow, with black 
whiskers and a man’s voice, but I was sure he 
knew me, and that he was Joe Green, and I was 
very glad. I put my nose up to him and tried 
to say that we were friends. I never saw a man 
so pleased. “Give you a fair trial! I should 
think so indeed! I wonder who the rascal was that 
broke your knees, my old Beauty! You must 
have been badly served out somewhere. Well, 
well, it won’t be my fault if you haven’t good 
times of it now. I wish John Manly was here 
to see you.” 

In the afternoon I was put into a low Park 
chair and brought to the door. Miss Ellen was 
going to try me, and Green went with her. I 
soon found that she was a good driver, and she 
seemed pleased with my paces. I heard Joe tell¬ 
ing her about me, and that he was sure I was 
Squire Gordon’s old “Black Beauty.” 

When we returned the other sisters came out 
to hear how I had behaved myself. She told 
them what she had just heard, and said, “I shall 
certainly write to Mrs. Gordon and tell her that 
her favorite horse has come to us. How pleased 
she will be.” . 

After this I was driven every day for a week 
or so and as I appeared to quite safe, Miss Layinia 
at last ventured out in a small close carnage. 
After this it was quite decided to keep me and call 
me by my old name of “Black Beauty. 







234 


BLACK BEAUTY 



I have now lived in this happy place a whole 
year. Joe is the best and kindest of grooms. 
My work is easy and pleasant, and I feel my 
strength and spirits all coming back again. Mr. 
Thoroughgood said to Joe the other day,— 

“In your place he will last till he is twenty 
years old,—perhaps more.” 

Willie always speaks to me when he can, and 
treats me as his special friend. My ladies have 
promised that I shall never be sold, and so I have 
nothing to fear; and here my story ends. My 
troubles are all over, and I am at home; and often 
before I am quite awake, I fancy I am still in the 
orchard at Birtwick, standing with my old friends 
under the apple trees. 



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